This is a loose translation of my Bengali original, which was written from my imagination when I was seventeen.
The untidy shivering of love on the body of my woman
This night— yes, this is our first—
The soft vibrations of her open hair
That I have felt, they aren’t a secret any more.
On her soft body alike the bristles of the paint-brush
Here I am lying down, at this hour of togetherness—
All the emptiness of being separated has vanished
This night; it will never end, it will see no dawn.
In the completeness of our being, we feel overwhelmed
Because freedom and wilderness has ceased all our fears.
Via the touches of our wet bodies
And the language of the eyes, we communicate.
Repeatedly I capture her skin within my lips;
Our endless love will never be punctuated—
Youth has added to this determination—
And thus has ceased all distance between us.
Tears from her eyes are shedding the last bits of embarrassment.
Wrinkles on her forehead signal her worry that the clock is ticking.
Deep love has slowly worn this nakedness,
Which makes her mine, only mine.