Where the road comes to an abrupt break at the brink of her water， she graciously makes way for the passers-by across her crystal-clear garrulous stream.
Her speech is the speech of the humble home， not the language of the learned. Her rhythm has a common kinship both with the land and the water； her vagrant stream is unjealous of the green and golden wealth of the earth.
Slender is her body that glides in curves across shadows and lights， clapping hands in a tripping measure.
In the rains her limbs become wild like those of the village girls drunk with the mahua wine， yet she never even in her wantonness breaks or drowns her neighbouring land； only with a jesting whirl of her skirt sweeps the banks while she runs laughing loud.
By the middle of autumn her waters become limpid， her current slim， revealing the pallid glimpse of the sands underneath. Her destitution does not shame her， for her wealth is not arrogant， not her poverty mean.
They carry their own grace in their different moods， even as a girl when she dance with all her jewels aglimmer， or when she sits silent with languor in her eyes and a touch of a tired smile on her lips.
The kopai in her pulsation fnds its semblance in the rhythm of my poet's verse， the rhythm that has formed its comradeship with the language rich in music and that which is crowded with the jarring trivialities of the work-a-day hours.
Its cadence fails not the Santal boy lazily tramping along with his bow and arrows， it times itself to the lumbering market cart loaded with straw， to the panting breath of the potter shouldering earthen-wares in a pair of hanging baskets tied to a pole， his pet pariah dog fondly following his shadow， it moves at the pace of the weary steps of the village schoolmaster， worth three rupees a month， holding an old torn umbrella over his head.
30
虽然我知道，我的朋友，我们是不相同的
但是我的心拒绝承受这个说法。
因为我们在同一的无眠之夜的
鸟叫时醒来，
同样的春天的符咒
进入我们的内心。
虽然你的脸朝向光明
我的脸在阴影之下
我们的幽会却是甜柔而秘密，
因为青春的洪水在它泛涨的舞蹈中
把我们拉在一起。
你以你的光辉与温柔统治了世界，
我的脸是苍白的。
但是一阵生命高贵的气息
把我带到了你的身边
我们分野的那条黑线
被清晓的明光烧红了。
Though I know， my friend， that we are different
my mind refuses to own it.
For we two woke up in the same sleepless night
While the birds sang，
And the same spell of the spring entered our hearts.
Though your face is towards the light and mine in the shade
The delight of our meeting is sweet and secret，
for the food of youth in its eddying dance
has drawn us close.
With your glory and grace you conquer the world，
my face is pale.
But a magnanimous breath of life
has carried me to your side
and the dark line of our difference is aglow with the radiance of a dawn.
31
这个山达尔女人在木棉树下的沙径上忙忙地走上走下，一块粗糙的灰色的纱丽紧紧地缠裹住她的黧黑而结实的苗条的身躯，纱丽的红边和妙焰花的火红魔咒一样在风中飘扬。
哪位心不在焉的设计之神，在用七月的云彩和电光模塑一只黑鸟的时候，一定在不知不觉之中忽然造成了这个女人的形象：她激动的翅翼藏在身子里，她轻健的脚步兼有了女人的行走和鸟的飞翔。几只漆镯圈在她模塑得绝美的臂腕上，一筐散沙顶在她头上，她在木棉树下飞掠过红沙的小径。
留恋的冬天已经完成了它的使命，南方偶然的气息已在撩弄这冬月的清严。金冬丛枝上的叶子已经染上灿烂的凋萎的金光。余甘树林中点缀着丰熟的果实，喧闹的孩子们在那里围聚抢夺。成堆的落叶和沙土在随着无定的风跳着鬼一样的旋舞。
我土屋的建筑动工了，工人们在忙着砌墙。远远的汽笛声在宣告铁路的交叉处正过着火车，隔壁学校里也传来了叮当的铃声。
我坐在凉台上，看着这年轻的女人一小时一小时地不断地劳作。当我觉得这女人的服务是神圣地注定为她所爱的人们的，而它的庄严被市价污损了，竟被我借着几个铜钱的帮忙把它掠夺了，我的心感到深深的羞愧。
The Santal woman hurries up and down the gravelled path under the shimool tree； a coarse grey sari closely twines her slender limbs， dark and compact； its red border sweeping across the air with faming red magic of the palash fower.
Some absent-minded divine designer， while fashioning a black bird with the stuff of the July cloud and the lightning flash， must have improvised unawares this woman's form； her impulsive wings hidden within， her nimble steps uniting in them a woman's walk and a bird's fight. With a few lacquer bangles on her exquisitely modeled arms and a basket full of loose earth on her head， she fits across the gravel-red path under the shimool tree.
The lingering winter has fnished its errand， The casual breath of the south is beginning to tease the austerity of the cold month. On the himjhuri branches the leaves are taking the golden tint of a rich decay， The ripe fruits are strewn over the amlaki grove where the rowdy boys crowd to pillage them.Swarms of dead leaves and cust are capering in a ghastly whirl following sudden caprices of the wind.
The building of my mud house has commenced and labourers are busy raising the walls. The distant whistle announces the passing of the train along the railway cutting， and the dingdong of the bell of the bell is heard from the neighbouring school.
I sit on my terrace watching the young woman toiling at her task hour after hour. My heart is touched with shame when I feel that the woman's service sacredly ordained for her loved ones， its dignity soiled by the market price， should have been robbed by me with the help of a few pieces of copper.
32
她是一个秋夜的仙灵，
披着消沉落日的微光，
带来星辰无尽安宁的应许，
用她静默的服务引导着
勉强之夜长久留连的时间疲倦的脚步
进入到晨星的郊邻。
她的长发被清晓的柔风吹拂着，
透出早祷的烟香，
她日终的含愁的甜柔的脸
蒙受晨光的祝福发出了光辉。
She is the spirit of an Autumn evening.
robed in the gleams of the vanished sunset，
carrying the promise of the immense peace of the star，
guiding with her speechless ministry
the languid steps of the long lingering hours of the reluctant night
into the neighbourhood of the morning star.
Her tresses touched by the gentle breeze of the dawn，
that smell of the morning worship，
her sad and sweet face of the day's end
becomes radiant with the blessedness of the morning light.
33
当我从睡梦中醒来，
我发现一筐橘子在我脚边，
我正忖想谁能是这礼物的
赠予者；
我的猜测从这一名字飞到那一名字
但是美好的名字，
像春花一样的繁多，
一切不同的名字联合起来
使它成为一件完美的礼物。
When I rose from my sleep
I found a basket of oranges at my feet，
my mind wondered who could be the giver
of such a gift；
my guesses few from one name to another
but sweet names were abandoned
like fowers in the Spring；
and all varied names combined
to make this gift a perfect one.
34
在我痊愈的路上，
当我领受自然最早的友谊问候的时光，
她在我眼前举起无边的最初惊奇的珍贵的礼物。
丛树和蓝天浴在晨光之中，
虽是古老和已曾相识的，
向我呈现了在他们里面的创造的永在最初的时间
我觉得我的今生是交织在许多变幻形象的降生之中
像阳光是不同的光线组成的，
每一个形样在它的合一里，
是和无数看不见的形样掺杂着。
On my way to recovery
when I received Nature's earliest friendly greetings，