PÁHÁŔE ÁJ RAUNGER MELÁ
MAN NÁCE DODUL DÚL
SABÁI MILE CAL GO JÁBO
ÁNBO TÚLE PHÚL
MORÁ ÁNBO TÚLE PHÚL
PÁHÁŔE ÁJ RAUNGER MELÁ
MAN NÁCE DODUL DÚL
VAN KÁPÁSIR BÁT́ PERIYE
MONÁI T́ÁNŔER MÁT́H MÁŔIYE
KHÁT́OYÁLER GHÁT́ EŔIYE
JÁBO SIHÁŔ SHUL
KHOMPÁY NIYE PHÚL GO
MORÁ KHOMPÁY NIYE PHÚL
PÁHÁŔE ÁJ RAUNGER MELÁ
MAN NÁCE DODUL DÚL
CALÁR NÁHI SHEŚ GO
MODER CALÁI JE JIIVAN
NECE GEYE CALI MORÁ
KHUSHI BHARÁ MAN
PHÚL NÁ PELE MAN ÁMÁDER
HOY GO JE ÁKUL
TÁI JAKHAN CALI CALI MORÁ
SAUNGE NIYEI PHÚL
PÁHÁŔE ÁJ RAUNGER MELÁ
MAN NÁCE DODUL DÚL
On this mountain top, in a festival of colours,
our minds are dancing and swaying.
Let us all go together,
let us gather flowers to take home.
Swiftly crossing the narrow path to the cotton forest,
we run over barren fields
and cross pastures,
avoiding the ghat and going further afield.
With flowers in our hair,
we shall move towards that which we cherish.
There is no end to our journey –
movement is life.
With joyful minds
we go on dancing and singing.
If we do not find flowers,
our minds become restless
so wherever we go,
we carry flowers with us.