MADHU MÁSE MÁYÁ KÁNANE
PHÚL PHOT́ECHE THARE THARE
MANER MADHU D́HELE TÁTE
SÁJÁYE TÁRE PRIITI BHARE
PHÚL PHOT́ECHE THARE THARE
CÁMPÁR KALI UNKI DIYE JÁY
KISHALAYE D́HÁKÁ NÁ JÁY
CHOT́T́A BAKUL RAḾGIIN PÁRUL
ÁNKHI MELE CÁI CÁRI DHÁRE
PHÚL PHOT́ECHE THARE THARE
BELÁ CÁMELII GANDHA VILÁY
PALÁSH SHIMUL VARŃE MÁTÁY
ASHOK MUKUL UŔIYE DUKÚL
ÚRDDHVE TÁKÁI TÁRI TARE
PHÚL PHOT́ECHE THARE THARE
MADHU MÁSE MÁYÁ KÁNANE
PHÚL PHOT́ECHE THARE THARE
During spring,
in the illusive garden,
flowers bloom,
layer by layer.
You poured into them mental honey
and filled them with the beauty of Your love.
The campa flower bud peeps through,
not wanting to let itself become covered by tender leaves.
The small bakul flower
and the colourful parul flower
open their eyes
desirous to look all over.
The fragrance of the bela and cameli flowers disperses
and the palash and shimul flowers become intoxicated with colours.
The buds of the ashoka tree spring forth all around,
facing ever upwards in search of Him.