HE DARADII, HE DARADII
KON SUDÚRE JÁO
BHÁLOBESE MADHUR HESE
ACENÁ SAMA TÁKÁO
KON SUDÚRE JÁO
GIITIR MÁLÁ GÁNTHÁ PAŔE ÁCHE
GIITIR MÁLÁ GÁNTHÁ PAŔE ÁCHE
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
GIITIR MÁLÁ GÁNTHÁ PAŔE ÁCHE
PRIITIR D́ÁLÁ TEMANI RAYECHE
SMRITIR REKHÁY MADHU JOCHANÁY
CARAŃE DALIÁ DHÁO
KON SUDÚRE JÁO
KALÁPERI RAUNGE RÁUNGÁYE SVAPAN
KALÁPERI RANGE RÁNGÁYE SVAPAN
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
KALÁPERI RAUNGE RÁUNGÁYE SVAPAN
RIKŚA RIKTATÁY KARE ÁVARTANA
SHYÁMAL SHAŚPE PARÁGE PUŚPE
VIŚÁŃE IISHÁNE GÁO
KON SUDÚRE JÁO
HE DARADII, HE DARADII
KON SUDÚRE JÁO
O my sympathiser,
how far do You go?
Smiling sweetly with love,
You remain unknown.
A threaded garland of songs,
and the bouquet of love are left.
You draw with Your feet
the sketch of memory
that lies in sweet moonlight
and then, You rush off.
The dream that remains coloured
with the hue of a colourful peacock's tail,
carries the empty and cyclic bear's dance.
In green grass,
in the pollen of flowers,
in the longhorn
that moves northeast,
You sing.