ÁMÁR KÁNU, ÁMÁR KÁNU
ÁMÁR KÁNU, JÁY, JÁY, JÁY, JÁY
VRINDÁVANER VANE VANE
BHÁSIE DIYE ÁNKHIR VÁNE
SHÚRASENER RÁJÁ HOTE
MATHURÁTE DHÁY
JÁY, JÁY, JÁY
TOMÁY KÁNU BHULABO NÁKO
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
TOMÁY KÁNU BHULABO NÁKO
JATA DÚREI TUMI THÁKO
ÁMÁR MANER VEDI THEKE
KE TOMÁKE SARÁY
JÁY, JÁY, JÁY
ÁBÁR TUMI VRAJE ESO
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
ÁBÁR TUMI VRAJE ESO
BÁNSHIR TÁNE MADHUR HESO
VAN HARIŃI MAN MAYÚRII
TOMÁR CARAŃ CÁY, JÁY, JÁY, JÁY
ÁMÁR KÁNU, ÁMÁR KÁNU
ÁMÁR KÁNU, JÁY, JÁY, JÁY, JÁY
My Kanu (young Krsna) is going away.
In the forests of Vrindavan,
watery eyes are shedding tears.
Though being the King of Shurasen,
He is heading towards Mathura.
I shall never forget You,
O Kanu,
however far You may be.
From my mental altar,
who can remove You?
Come this time to the land of Vraja,
playing melodies on the flute and smiling sweetly.
The wild deer and the mental peacock long for Your holy feet.