GÁNER BHÁŚÁ MOR HÁRIYE GECHE
SUR T́UKU TÁR ÁCHE BUKER MÁJHE
PHULER KORAK MÁJHE CÁPÁ THEKEO
MADHUR PARASH ÁJO RAYE GECHE
JABE, TOMÁRE DEKHINU SHARAT SANDHYÁY
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
JABE, TOMÁRE DEKHINU SHARAT SANDHYÁY
SHEFÁLII SUVÁSE HALKÁ JYOTSNÁY
SEI PARIVESHE GÁN BHESE ÁSE
TUMI GELE GÁN NIYE SUR RAYECHE
JABE, TOMÁRE DEKHINU KRŚŃÁ TITHITE
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
JABE, TOMÁRE DEKHINU KRŚŃÁ TITHITE
UDDÁM NIIR DHÁRÁ VIDYUTE
BHAYÁL SE PARIVESHE GÁN O ÁSE
GIIT GECHE SUR TÁR CHANDE NÁCE
The language of my songs is lost,
only their tunes remain inside my heart.
When I see You in the winter evening,
in the gentle moonlight
and amidst the fragrance of the shefali flower,
then in that environment,
a song comes floating.
You went away carrying with You that song,
leaving behind only its tune.
When I see You in dark nights,
amidst the reckless rain and lightning,
in that frightening environment also,
a song comes.
But now that song has gone
and only its melody rhythmically dances on.