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3003 (09/08/1985) K


ÁMRA VANER MADHU JHARE JÁY
VASANTERI HAOÁ DIGANTE HÁRÁY
VASANTERI HAOÁ DIGANTE HÁRÁY
VASANTERI HAOÁ DIGANTE HÁRÁY
NIDÁGHER TÁPE ÁJ KOKIL BHULECHE GÁN
ÁÁ

NIDÁGHER TÁPE ÁJ KOKIL BHULECHE GÁN
NIDÁGHER TÁPE ÁJ KOKIL BHULECHE GÁN
NIDÁGHER TÁPE ÁJ KOKIL BHULECHE GÁN
SHYÁMALIMÁ HÁRÁNO VEŃU VANE NEI TÁN
BÁDAL MEGHE NÁ DEKHE MAYURO NIŚPRÁŃ
NÁ PHOT́Á MUKUL ÁTAPE SHUKÁY

ÁMRA VANER MADHU JHARE JÁY
HARIT TRIŃE LEGECHE HARIDRÁ CHÁP
ÁÁ
HARIT TRIŃE LEGECHE HARIDRÁ CHÁP
HARIT TRIŃE LEGECHE HARIDRÁ CHÁP
HARIT TRIŃE LEGECHE HARIDRÁ CHÁP

JENO SE BAYE JÁY DUSTAR ANUTÁP
CEPE RÁKHÁ MARMER JATA CHILO SANTÁP
UŚŃA MÁRAVA ÁNKHITE MILÁY
ÁMRA VANER MADHU JHARE JÁY


The sweetness of the mango grove has dried up.
The spring wind is lost somewhere on the horizon.
The intense heat of the sun
has made the cuckoo forget its song.

In the hidden green bamboo grove no melody is heard.
Because no clouds can be seen anywhere in the sky,
the peacock loses its vitality.

Immature buds dry up in the sun.
Green grass turns brown as the hot air blows across it.
The penitent feelings which were pressed down in my heart,
in this severe heat are like sand in the eyes.






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