TOMÁRE CEYECHI
MANERI NIIPE MAŃI DIIPE
TUMI ELE NÁ
VARŚÁ KÁJAL RÁTE
BHAYÁL BÁDAL VÁTE
DHARÁ DILE NÁ
TUMI ELE NÁ
PRÁVRIT́A PRAKRTI KATANÁ LIILÁY
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
PRÁVRIT́A PRAKRTI KATANÁ LIILÁY
GHIRE CHILO MORE AYUTA MÁYÁY
SARVOTTARA TAVA MAHIMÁY
D́HÁKÁR CHILO KI CHALANÁ
TUMI ELE NÁ
MANDÁKRÁNTÁ TÁLE CALE DHARÁ
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
MANDÁKRÁNTÁ TÁLE CALE DHARÁ
PATH KLÁNTÁ VIVASHE VIDHURÁ
TOMÁRAI ÁSHE TÁI GHURE SÁRÁ
ÁNKHI MELE KENO DEKHAO NÁ
TUMI ELE NÁ
TOMÁRE CEYECHI
MANERI NIIPE MAŃI DIIPE
TUMI ELE NÁ
I wanted You in my mental garden of niipa trees,
with a lamp of gems.
Alas, You did not come.
I wanted You in the dark rainy night,
amidst frightening clouds and winds,
Alas, You did not come into my fold.
The overflooding and rainy nature of Your many illusionary games,
used to surround me with innumerable delusions,
covering Your highest glory.
Oh, why this play of Yours?
The earth moves at a special manda kranta rhythm.
Tired of movement,
compelled and afflicted,
she makes all revolutions in the hope of attaining You.
Why won’t You open Your eyes and look at her?