By Subrata Mukherjee
In love with Golapi, Subratagolapi.
I live with her lines in the bee -loud glade,
Drooping in love for her and arise again.
A blessing in the air and a wish for mine,
That seems, her touch in love from her lines!
She with her eyes unto the summer dew,
Clad in white is of the amplest blond!
Soft lips of her wear a crimson look.
About to beckon me in her veil, from the farthest star;
With the wind in her hold.
Where I speak to her eyes the words untold.
I hear she sings sweeter than before.
The lines from her love, for I and she in the heavens shore!
The New World (Natun Prithibi)