Ghorete bhromor elo

A hum of flitting bees bring me a message
From whom, of whom, I solemnly wonder
Stroked by soft sunbeams of a secret sky
Madhobi buds awaken in the arbor,
The bees chant softly to me
Of their magical act of spring-wakening.

How could I stay at home contentedly
When my heart simply wafts away
Counting each moment of trepidation!

What tender spells have they cast over me,
My chores, forgotten, as I lose myself
In webs of lyrical rhapsodies
Reflecting on the one they hum about.