CAMPAKA VANE VIRALE VIJANE
TOMÁY LÁGIYÁ RACECHI GÁN, GÁN
MANE CHILO ÁSHÁ CHILO BHÁLOBÁSÁ
TÁI SEI GÁNE BHARECHI PRÁŃA, PRÁŃA
TOMÁY LÁGIYÁ RACECHI GÁN, GÁN
SHUNIVÁR ÁR KEHOI CHILO NÁ
CHILO NÁ SÁDHYA CHILO NÁ SÁDHANÁ
CHILO SHUDHU BHARÁ APÁR PRERŃÁ
KARUŃÁ KAŃÁR PRIITIR T́ÁN, T́ÁN
TOMÁY LÁGIYÁ RACECHI GÁN, GÁN
VANA PATHE SEI SURE CALIYÁCHI
CÁMPÁR PARÁG TÁTE MISHÁYECHI
PIITA UCCHALA KANAK UJJVAL
SE MÁDHURII GÁNE ENECHE TÁN, TÁN
TOMÁY LÁGIYÁ RACECHI GÁN, GÁN
CAMPAKA VANE VIRALE VIJANE
TOMÁY LÁGIYÁ RACECHI GÁN, GÁN
In the garden of campaka flowers,
alone, secludedly,
I create my song for You.
In my mind,
hope and love abound.
Hence into that song,
I fill my vitality, my energy.
There was no one to listen to,
neither was there goal or effort.
Limitless inspiration lay in the air
and by a wee bit of Your compassion,
a pull of love emerged.
Along the forest path, I move with that tune,
mixing into it the fragrance of the campa flower.
Like a restless golden brilliance,
the song’s sweetness brings forth melody.