Remember

Rabindranath Tagore

Do not miss my mother.
Just when to play suddenly unnecessary
A whispering tune my ears,
To match mother's words in my game.
Mother understood the song to push my swing.
The mother has gone, the song goes away.

My mother seems to be reading me
Just when in the morning on Sunday in Shivalibane
There is a smell of flowers on the dew-soaked breeze
Why the mother's words float in my mind?
When did you realize that the mother made the flower shade?
That smell of pooja comes from the smell of the mother.

Do not miss my mother.
Just when sitting in the corner of the bedroom,
Looking away from the window, towards the blue sky-
I think my mother wants me to be immortal.
When looking after me in the lap,
The couch left the entire sky.