NIILODADHIR URMIMÁLÁY
KÁR VÁŃII BHESE JÁY
BOLO ÁMÁRE
SHUNECHI TÁHÁR NÁM PRATI LAHAMÁY
DEKHINIKO KAKHANO TÁRE
BOLO ÁMÁRE
UŚÁR PÚRVÁKÁSHE TÁHÁRI CHAT́Á
SANDHYÁ RÁGE ÁNKÁ TÁHÁRI T́IIKÁ
CIDÁKÁSHE TÁR UNMUKTA JAT́Á
SPANDITA SHATA DHÁRE
BOLO ÁMÁRE
JAKHAN CHILO NÁ KICHU CHILO NÁ DHARÁ
CHILO NÁKO SPANDAN PRÁŃE BHARÁ
CHILO NÁ BHÁVÁVEG UTALÁ KARÁ
SEI CHILO CUPI SÁRE
BOLO ÁMÁRE
NIILODADHIR URMIMÁLÁY
KÁR VÁŃII BHESE JÁY
BOLO ÁMÁRE
In the series of waves in the blue ocean,
tell me, whose message keeps floating?
I hear His name each moment,
but I cannot ever see Him.
In the eastern morning sky,
is His beauty.
In the evening hue,
His mark is sketched.
In the firmament of my mind
is His free flowing tuft of hair,
oscillating in hundreds of styles.
When there was nothing,
when there was no earth,
when there was no vibration filled with vitality,
when there was no maddening impulse of emotion,
He was silently present.