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1119 (23/12/1983) K


EI, BHÁLOBÁSÁ BHARÁ MADHU SANDHYÁY
KON SUDÚRE MAN BHESE JÁY

GOLÁB PHUT́ECHE RÁTUL CARAŃE
MAN PRÁŃ SE RÚPE MURACHÁY
ÁNKHI KICHUTEI SARITE NÁ CÁY
KON SUDÚRE MAN BHESE JÁY

TÁRÁRÁ PHÚT́ECHE KATA DÚR ÁKÁSHE
TOMÁR PRIITIR GIITI TÁRÁ BHÁŚE
TÁRÁ KAYE/GEYE? JÁY E HOLO KII DÁY
ETA BHÁLOBÁSÁ KI GO BHOLÁ JÁY
KON SUDÚRE MAN BHESE JÁY


In this sweet evening time,
so full of love,
my mind floats far away.

Roses bloom in many forests,
and blossom at Your pink feet.

By their beauty,
my mind becomes enchanted.
My eyes do not wish to deviate from it.

Stars twinkle in the far sky,
and sing the song of Your love.

What a pitiable condition this is,
they say.
How can so much love ever be forgotten?







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