I'm an affiliate of Bakul who are standing on your way silently.
You take rest in whose shadow by unfolding your Anchal.
In the evening when leaves will be dropping, I will be void, I will be no more.
In that day perhaps you will go on a new way by retracting your Achal, I know.
I will be just looking on your way.
You must forget your recoiling adjuration by amassing thousands of sulks.
I will never be green again. That exhausted evening will be meaningless.
You will never hearken my song which i used to sing in that romantic nights of rainy season..