3539 (19/05/1986) K

KAMAL KALI BOLE, PRABHU MOR
KUMUD KALHÁRE JE PRIITI D́OR
RACANÁ KARO SAROVARE
TÁR NÁI TULANÁ TÁR NÁI TULANÁ

ALI GUINJANE PRABHAINJANE
SÁJÁLE JÁ TUMI ÁNAMANE
SE NAY CHALANÁ SE NAY CHALANÁ
TÁR NÁI TULANÁ TÁR NÁI TULANÁ

PRABHÁTE ÁLO D́HELE DIYECHO
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
PRABHÁTE ÁLO D́HELE DIYECHO
SANDHYÁ RÁGER RAUNGE RÁUNGIYECHO
NRITYER TÁLE TÁLE MANDÁNILE
SAB KICHU DILE NIJE ELE NÁ
TÁR NÁI TULANÁ TÁR NÁI TULANÁ

BHUVAN CHEYE TAVA MÁYÁR KHELÁ
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
BHUVAN CHEYE TAVA MÁYÁR KHELÁ
JIIVAN BEYE ÁLO CHÁYÁR MELÁ
TUMI ÁCHO ÁMI ÁCHI SÁR JENECHI
E JÁNÁY ÁCHE CIRA SÁNTVANÁ
TÁR NÁI TULANÁ TÁR NÁI TULANÁ

The lotus bud says,

“O my Lord,
the thread that You created,
in the bunch of lily flowers,
has no comparison.

That which You have unmindfully decorated
with humming of bees and storms,
is not simply an illusion.”

You poured light into the morning.
You coloured the evening with tint.
By the rhythms of dance and through the soft breeze,
You provided everything.
Yet You Yourself did not come.

Your illusive play spreads all over the world.
Life flows through the togetherness of light and shade.
You exist and I exist. This is the essence of what I know.
In this knowledge lies permanent consolation.