ÁMI GULBÁGICÁY BULBULI
KATHÁ KAI NÁKO, KÁRO SANE
ÁMI GÁN GÁI ÁR SUR TULI
ÁMI GULBÁGICÁY BULBULI
DIN ÁSE JÁY MÁDHURII CHAŔÁY
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
DIN ÁSE JÁY MÁDHURII CHAŔÁY
ÁMÁR MANETE RAḾGA REKHE JÁY
SONÁ JHARÁ RODE PRIITI PARISHODHE
SHONÁI SONÁLII GÁN GULI
ÁMI GULBÁGICÁY BULBULI
TOMÁDER KATHÁ BHÁLO KARE JÁNI
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
TOMÁDER KATHÁ BHÁLO KARE JÁNI
TOMÁDER TARE SONÁ JÁLA BUNI
SE JÁLER SONÁ DEKHÁNO JÁY NÁ
MANETE PHOT́ÁNO CÁMPÁ KALI
ÁMI GULBÁGICÁY BULBULI
I am a nightingale of the floral garden.
I do not talk to anyone,
I sing my song and raise my melody.
Days of sweetness come and go,
leaving behind hues in my mind.
In this golden brightness,
sanctified by love,
I sing for You
my golden songs.
I know You well.
For You,
I weave a golden web.
Yet through that web,
no gold is seen.
And inside the mind
buds of campa flowers bloom.