[For a childhood sweetheart]

It's been years
that [our] meeting [again]
has not been not up to destiny
but [will be] at the Judgement Day.[1]
You console me.
You say,
‘The black Horse Brand tights[2]
on your legs
were beautiful.'
I am tempted [to see]
your gaze
just this once
stop its fluttering
and once again
be pinned
to my
Heads or tails?[4]
Under the wings
Of the nastaran bush by the stream [5]
a thousand tosses and turns[6]
before waking perhaps
I meet you
once again
in a dream
which was disturbed
by the flight [buzzing] of a bee
on the roundness of a burst pomegranate.[7]

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I am splendid to read these poems. I am a bengali poet and writer from Kolkata, India. I want to translate these poems in bengali, the language of Rabindranath Tagore, a nobel laureate in literature.

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