EI PHÁGUNE KÁR MANOVANE
PHÚL TULILE GOPANE CITACOR
PHÚL NILE SÁTHE MADHU NIYE GELE
PHELE REKHE DILE BRINTA KAT́HOR
PHÚL TULILE GOPANE CITACOR
ÁMI BHÁVI SHUDHU TOMÁR VÁRTÁ
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
ÁMI BHÁVI SHUDHU TOMÁR VÁRTÁ
LIILÁ KARE JÁO KAO NÁKO KATHÁ
SPANDANE ÁNO JE MUKHARATÁ
TÁTE MÁTE MOR CITTA CAKOR
PHÚL TULILE GOPANE CITACOR
ANÁDI KÁLER TUMI SAKHÁ MOR
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
ANÁDI KÁLER TUMI SAKHÁ MOR
ANANTA PATHE TAVA PRIITI D́OR
BENDHE RÁKHE MORE MÚCHE ÁNKHI LOR
TAVA BHÁVE TÁI HOYECHI VIBHOR
PHÚL TULILE GOPANE CITACOR
EI PHÁGUNE KÁR MANOVANE
PHÚL TULILE GOPANE CITACOR
O stealer of mind,
in whose mental garden,
did You secretly pick flowers this spring?
Along with their honey,
You carried away those flowers,
leaving behind the hard stalk only.
Having me constantly think of You,
You continue the divine play,
without ever talking to me.
By the vibration You bring into whatever expression,
the cakor bird of my mind is intoxicated.
You are my companion since time immemorial.
The string of Your love spreads onto an infinite path.
It keeps me bound and wipes off my tears.
Hence in Your ideation, I remain totally absorbed.