The Blessed One Rabindranath Tagore
Rare is your dwelling with the garden in the middle,
O Blessed one, your work goes on without any trouble.
The cuckoo sings sweetly perched from the tree,
the baby in the house makes delightful sounds with glee.
And I have reserved my very last song only for thee.
Morning makes its visit with baskets of flowers,
evening shows itself from the tower.
Inside your house a soft music is playing,
the bracelets have joined in with jovial singing.
And my last best song I present you as my offering.
The fair young maidens leave their offering on your feet,
the bright young ladies bring garlands for you ,they want to meet.
Your fate is lined with a bundle of ray,
your heart is visible like a gorgeous sunny day.
I bring my last best song for you today.
Winter,spring, age, or youth ,does not worry you,
it does not take away your throne from you.
the lamp doesn’t cease burning, neither do you,
your unwavering radiance is surrounded all over you.
My last best song is reserved for you.
You showed yourself like a flowing river,
you flow towards the ocean without stopping forever.
The story of your motion is read in a house,
I’m sure no one is moving,not even a mouse.
My last best song is reserved only for your house.
Your countenance spells peace to all the travellers,
your love and affection unites them together.
In my writing shelter the restless breeze
is blowing flowers and buds off the trees__
And I want to offer my last song ,if I may please.