UTALÁ PAVANE MADHU VANE
DOLÁ DIYE GELO KE GO SE
HOYE MANE CINI KICHU KICHU JÁNI
KÁCHE THÁKE MÁNI AVASHEŚE
DOLÁ DIYE GELO KE GO SE
AGNITE ÁCHE DÁHIKÁ SHAKTITE
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
AGNITE ÁCHE DÁHIKÁ SHAKTITE
DUGDHE RAYECHE DHAVALATÁTE
RAYECHE MANER MANJÚŚÁTE
ÁLO JHARÁ ÚŚÁTE MISHE
DOLÁ DIYE GELO KE GO SE
VIDYUTE SE JE CALAT SHAKTI
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
VIDYUTE SE JE CALAT SHAKTI
RAḾGIIN PRABHÁTE RAḾGE RÁḾGÁ PRIITI
BHUVANE CHAŔÁYE DIYECHO SAMPRIITI
JÁNI NÁ VISHVE SE NEI KISE
DOLÁ DIYE GELO KE GO SE
UTALÁ PAVANE MADHU VANE
DOLÁ DIYE GELO KE GO SE
The intoxicating wind blew through the sweet garden.
Who provided the jerk, making me swing,
and then went away?
I seem to know I recognise Him.
I know Him to some extent.
At the end, I assume Him close.
He dwells in fire as its burning power.
He remains as whiteness in its whiteness.
He stays in the mental casket
and mingles with the light-scattering morning.
He lives as the moving power in electricity
and as colourful love in coloured mornings.
He scattered love throughout the world.
I do not know where in the world He is not.