PHÚL PHÚT́ECHILO SEI SE VIHÁNE
SÁNJHE SEJE CHILO CÁNDA
DIN KET́E GECHE HATÁSHE VIJANE
KENDE KI KÁT́IBE RÁTA
SÁNJHE SEJE CHILO CÁNDA
D́ÁK DIE GECHE DIN BULBULI
AMARÁR DVÁRGULI DIE KHULI
ÁMÁR KÁNANE JÁGENIKO KALI
ÁDI MADHYÁNTA PRAMÁDA
SÁNJHE SEJE CHILO CÁNDA
TAMASÁR MÁJHE E ÁSHÁ MANETE
NIRÁSHÁR NISHÁ KÁT́IBE PRABHÁTE
BÁLIR SHUKTI BHARE MUKTÁTE SARÁVE SAB VIŚÁDA
SÁNJHE SEJE CHILO CÁNDA
PHÚL PHÚT́ECHILO SEI SE VIHÁNE
SÁNJHE SEJE CHILO CÁNDA
The flowers had bloomed that morning, the moon was decorated in the evening. The day has
passed in disappointment in isolation. Would my night pass in crying? The nightingale went
on calling whole day, opening the doors of heaven. But in my garden the bud did not bloom
due to ego from beginning till end. Within darkness, this hope was there in the mind, that
the night of disappointment would be passed by morning, by filling shells on the shore
with pearls, I would remove all agonies.