PHÚLERÁ PÁPAŔI MELE
KÁHÁR PÁNE CÁY
MADHUTE BUKAT́I BHARE
CUPAT́I KARE DOLE MALAY VÁY
PHÚLERÁ PÁPAŔI MELE
KÁHÁR PÁNE CÁY
MELE DÚT́I D́ÁGAR ÁNKHI
NIILÁINJAN MÁYÁ MÁKHI
APSARÁRÁI IIPSÁ BHARE
KON SUDÚRE SURE BHESE JÁY
PHÚLERÁ PÁPAŔI MELE
KÁHÁR PÁNE CÁY
MAN PAVANE NÁO BHÁSIYE
KON ASIIMER D́ÁK SHUNIYE
CÁNDER KIRAŃ TÁRÁR HÁSI
PRIITI BÁNSHI EKAI SURE GÁY
PHÚLERÁ PÁPAŔI MELE
KÁHÁR PÁNE CÁY
Who do flowers look at,
when opening their petals?
Filling honey into their heart,
they silently swing with the sandal breeze.
Opening wide both eyes,
filled with illusive collyrium mark,
and so full of heavenly desire,
to which far distant place
do they desire to drift off?
You float me into mental winds,
and make me listen to the call of infinity.
The rays of the moon,
the smile of stars,
that loving flute,
all sing along in unison.