# Lesson I cannot provide a translation without the source text. Please share the Bengali poem titled "Lesson" (or provide the Bengali original), and I will translate it into English as a work of literary poetry, honoring its voice, rhythm, and essence.

I got over you. Leave me a wound.
To heal? Hardly...And you,
when you feel I'm gone,
re-read me. I was born in verse.

I know, it wasn't a typical separation,
I didn't even reach out—
for a hug. I wanted you, whole.
Maybe it never happened? Rusty key!

They say birds often return.
And just sing. I am a sparrow.
They often invite me to a meeting.
I'm not going, then they say I'm bad.

For guilt...Who cares?
Is it me or you...does it matter?
I dreamed of love, not bloated.
She, the soul, does not sleep...in bed.

It was nice, yes, it was passionate.
Will I remember you as I said...with good memories?
To love is a wonderful thing.
But don't expect from your ex...a letter, even.

For now, I'm breathing again, but it's hard.
But I stopped crying...at least.
And thanks for the wisdom lesson.
Beautiful—the rose, also the thorns...