Krsna, Murari,
to this forgotten land of Vraja,
come again!

Today, the Yamuna river
does not flow a reverse flow.
A sweet flute is not being there played any longer.

Below the kadamba tree,
the children of Vraja today do not play with You.

Due to fear that their butter might be stolen,
the milkmaids no longer cover their pots.

And yet, even today,
in their hearts,
they firmly know
that You belong to them only.

On the banks of the Yamuna river,
in the markets of beauty,
within the arbour of tamal trees,
on the path of Gokul,
the milkmaids have kept their face covered
to think about You only.