Let’s be girls, Ma,
and play with dolls;
come into my playroom.
I will take the Mother’s role, so I can
teach You how.
If You make one dull or wretched,
hold him to Your bosom;
who else will ease his pain?
One who gets no jewels and gems, Ma,
at least should get his mother.
Some will be quite naughty,
others lie about inside their homes,
but all play games of hide-and-seek
(our world here has no death, Ma),
crying as they leave at night, returning with the morning.
This little boy,
You made him cry
You made him fear.
Now love away his fear,
cease to make him cry—
or casting You aside
he’ll run away.
When this play is finished
lull him into sleep;
hold him in Your arms.
Translated from the Bangla by Rachel Fell McDermott