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1546 (01/06/1984) Df



BULBULI NÁCE GUL BÁGIICÁTE
PÁPIYÁ GÁNA GÁY

JENO, PHÚL COR KEU NÁHI ÁSE KÁCHE
TÁI SE D́EKE JÁY
PÁPIYÁ GÁNA GÁY

TANDRÁ JAŔIT PÁPAŔI GULI TE
GOLÁPER MADHU MÁKHÁ THÁKE THÁKE
PHÚLER PARÁGE RÁGE ANURÁGE
GANDHA MÁTÁY TÁY
PÁPIYÁ GÁNA GÁY

E DIN THÁKIBE NÁ SABE JÁNE
PHÚL JHARE JÁBE NIIRAVE VIJANE
GANDHA MADHU TÁI KHONJE SHUDHU
SE VIDHURE AJÁNÁY
PÁPIYÁ GÁNA GÁY

BULBULI NÁCE GUL BÁGIICÁTE
PÁPIYÁ GÁNA GÁY


The nightingale dances over the floral garden,
and the cuckoo sings,
so that no flower thief should come close.
Thus they keep on calling.

The drowsy petals of the rose flowers
remain absorbed in sweetness.
They are intoxicated with the charming and loving fragrance
in the pollen of flowers.


All know that this day will not stay.
The flowers will whither away silently in isolation.
Hence all search for only the sweet fragrance

of that unknown and overwhelming entity.

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