Your flower, Your bird

(90)  Hemante mor phuler saji bharbe go

In prewinter, oh my flower-tray, it will be full;
It will be full of Your vital touch.

All the flowers are withdrawing
From neglect, from inattention.
Among them there are some
Who will wear colored garments...
They will dress in Your vital touch.

Upon the trees, names unknown,
The birds all in tiny abodes,
They'll deem Your name as their own,
They'll think so by Your vital touch.

In Your mind do I exist...
I've made my hue mingle with Yours;
In Your tune, my tune is mixed...
Oh it will exude nectar;
It will drip with Your vital touch.

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