JYOTSNÁ RÁTE TUMI ESE CHILE
SHUBHRA SHUCITÁ D́HELE DIYE GIYE CHILE
ÁMI CHINU ÁNAMANE KISER CHALE
MANER KATHÁ MOR TUMI BUJHE NIYE CHILE
SHUBHRA SHUCITÁ D́HELE DIYE GIYE CHILE
SE NISHÁ KI JIIVANE ÁSIBE NÁ ÁR
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
SE NISHÁ KI JIIVANE ÁSIBE NÁ ÁR
SE RÁKÁ KI MANANE HÁSIBE ÁBÁR
SE SHASHÁUNKA ÁTAUNKA SARIYE DIYE
MANER MAYURE KI NÁCÁBE MANTRA BALE
SHUBHRA SHUCITÁ D́HELE DIYE GIYE CHILE
ÁBÁR ESE GECHE PHÁGUNER RÁTA
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
ÁBÁR ESE GECHE PHÁGUNER RÁTA
JHALAKE KIḾSHUKE NAVA ANURÁGA
SHÁLMALII SHÁKHÁ DOLE NAVODITA MUKULE
PRIITIR PASARÁ PUNAH DHARÁTALE REKHE GELE
SHUBHRA SHUCITÁ D́HELE DIYE GIYE CHILE
JYOTSNÁ RÁTE TUMI ESE CHILE
SHUBHRA SHUCITÁ D́HELE DIYE GIYE CHILE
You came in the moonlit night,
flowing shining purity.
I was unmindful, under the spell of delusion.
You understood my mental state.
Will not that night come into my life again?
Will that moonlight again smile in my mind at that time?
Will that fear-removing moon
make the peacock of my mind dance by the power of mantra?
The night of spring has returned again.
In the kimshuk flowers, new love is seen.
On the branches of shalmali trees,
newly grown buds swing.
Articles of love again decorate the earth.