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109 (14/11/1982) D


BANDHU, TOMÁR GOPAN KATHÁ
KAYE JÁO MOR KÁNE KÁNE
KÁNE KÁNE

GRIIŚMA KÁLER SABÁR VYATHÁ
JÁNÁO ÁMÁY GÁNE GÁNE
GÁNE GÁNE
KAYE JÁO MOR KÁNE KÁNE
KÁNE KÁNE

PHUT́ALO JE PHUL SE JÁY PUŔE
PHOT́ENI JE JÁY SE JHARE
ARDHA PATHE NADIIR DHÁRÁ
VÁŚPETE JÁY UŔE
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
E KII SHUDHU ÁMÁR VYATHÁ

JIIVER VYATHÁ,
E KII NAY TOMÁR VYATHÁ SAB KHÁNE
KAYE JÁO MOR KÁNE KÁNE
KÁNE KÁNE

TRIŃER ÁNKUR JÁGITE CÁY
JÁGE NÁ SE DÁHERI BHAY
TUŚÁR PUINJA ÚŚŃATÁTE
ASHRU HOYE BAY
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
E KII SHUDHU ÁMÁR VYATHÁ

JIIVER VYATHÁ
E KII NAY TOMÁR VYATHÁ SAB KHÁNE
KAYE JÁO MOR KÁNE KÁNE
KÁNE KÁNE


Whisper Your secrets into my ears,
O supreme friend.
The sufferings of all in summer
convey to me in Your songs,
in Your songs, in Your songs.

The flower blossoms have burned and dried,
and the unopened buds have fallen on the path.
The river's flow evaporates in the air.
Is this pain only mine, or shared by all creatures?

Lord, whisper into my ears.
The grass sprouts want to awaken,
but do not, for fear of the heat,
and the ice melts in the warmth, like tears.








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