The sea of shapes

(921)  Amar ghare tumi ele, ei abelay path bhule

Into my shrine You came;
At this ill time, have You forgot the way?
In maya's web with gold wires am I snared;
You dyed my life in some strange game.

Today, heaven's song overflows sweetly;
Into finite ears that ambrosia's pouring.
With limitless into limited, so You are proclaimed;
Why are You disseminated in such way?

Today, a tuneful fragrance flies on a nameless airplane;
With the rush of unknown ages, it continues to exhilarate.
That same acquaintance, that same hearts' exchange,
It just takes place on the bank of the sea of shapes.

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