VANER BHRAMARÁ PHÚL PÁNE DHÁY
MANER BHRAMARÁ TÁKE KHONJE
TÁKE KHONJE
SHUDHU TÁKE KHONJE
HÁRÁNO HIYÁR MAŃI MANJÚŚÁ,
PÁOÁ NÁ PÁOÁR ÚRDDHVE SE
TÁKE KHONJE
SHUDHU TÁKE KHONJE
KII ÁCHE TÁHÁRI T́ANE
SE KII GO BHRAMARÁ JÁNE
KENO SE AMAN HÁSE
AKÁRAŃA PULAKE JE
TÁKE KHONJE
SHUDHU TÁKE KHONJE
JÁHÁ CAY KAHITE ÁNKHI
KAHI NÁ LÁJETE THÁKI
E KII MADHURATÁ MÁKHI
BHÁŚÁTIITA MADHU SÁJE
TÁKE KHONJE
SHUDHU TÁKE KHONJE
The black bee
of the forest of my mind
seeks only
the floral nectar of the Supreme.
He, the treasure casket of my lost heart
remains above the domain
of attainment and loss.
It knows not why
it seeks Him so.
He whose mysterious smile
sends inexplicable tremors
throughout my being.
I cannot describe
and turn away my eyes
in shyness.
What indescribable sweetness
emanates
from His most beauteous form?