(474) Toke gar kari nanad tui mor katha rakh
Respectfully, sister,[1] mark my words;
I will give you a garland that I weave.
Yellow kolke and red shimul,
They've blossomed aplenty;
This is no time to stay indoors.
My jubilant mind to yon forest would go;
Please come with, as I won't go alone.
When the Wizard calls from forests and hills,
In what close abode can mind reside any longer?
Respectfully, sister, do me this mercy;
Take my hand, and let's go forth triumphantly.
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Today, at His behest, women shrug off age-old shackles.
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