4474 (12/11/1988) K


JE DIIP JVÁLIYE GIYE CHILE
TÁR SHIKHÁ NABHONIILE BHÁSICHE

JE NIIP PRIITITE BHARE DILE
TÁR KESHAR ÁJO KEMPE CALECHE
TÁR SHIKHÁ NABHONIILE BHÁSICHE

JE HÁSITE BHUVAN MÁTÁLE
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
JE HÁSITE BHUVAN MÁTÁLE
JE BÁNSHII ADHARE DHARE CHILE
JE ÁNKHITE MADHU D́HELE DILE
JE PRIITI ASHEŚE JHARICHE
TÁR SHIKHÁ NABHONIILE BHÁSICHE

JE SUR BHÁVETE CHILO D́HÁKÁ
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
JE SUR BHÁVETE CHILO D́HÁKÁ
JE RÁGA ANURÁGE MÁKHÁ
JE PRIITI SMRITITE NIHITA RÁKHÁ
BHÁVÁDHÁRE TUŚIVARE BHÁVICHE
VEŃUDHARE GHIRE GHIRE NÁCICHE
TÁR SHIKHÁ NABHONIILE BHÁSICHE

JE DIIP JVÁLIYE GIYE CHILE
TÁR SHIKHÁ NABHONIILE BHÁSICHE







O Lord, the lamp that had gone kindling, the flame of that, floats in the blue sky. The
niip flower that You filled with love, the pollen of that, even today goes on oscillating.
The smile with which You charmed the world, the flute that You placed on the lips, the
eyes through which You poured the honey, that love goes on oozing endlessly. The melody
that was covered with feelings, the hue that is smeared with love, the love that remains
located in the memory, that appears for satiating You in the base of feelings, dancing
surrounding the holder of the flute, Ven’udhar, Krsna.