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4107 (12/07/1987) D


HÁRIYE PHELECHI ÁMÁRE,
ÁMI, HÁRIYE PHELECHI ÁMÁRE,

GIRI KANDARE VANE PRÁNTARE,
NADII MEKHALÁY BHÚDHARE
HÁRIYE PHELECHI ÁMÁRE,

SABÁI ÁPAN KEHO NAHE PAR,
ÁÁ
SABÁI ÁPAN KEHO NAHE PAR,
NIJERI SAMÁROHE BHARÁ GHAR
ULKÁ VRATATII MARU NIRJHAR,
KAŃT́HE MELÁLO EKAI SURE
HÁRIYE PHELECHI ÁMÁRE,

NEVECHE VARŚÁ ÁJI KARUŃÁR,
PRIITI DHÁRÁ BAYE ENECHE JOÁR
BRIHADÁLOKE CHOT́A DIIPÁDHÁR
NIJERE HÁRIYE PELO TÁRE
HÁRIYE PHELECHI ÁMÁRE,
ÁMI, HÁRIYE PHELECHI ÁMÁRE,


I have lost my own self into mountain caves, forests, vast expanse of arid land, rivers
and series of mountains, All are own, nobody is distant, The house is filled with own
items. The meteorites, creepers, desert, fountains, all are attuned to only one melody.
Today, the rain of mercy has come, the flowing tide has brought current of love. Under the
effulgence of brilliant light, the meager lamp base has found Him on losing own self.


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