BHOMORÁ GÁNE PHÚLER KÁNE
KAILO KII TÁ KEJÁNE
HOYE TO GÁTHÁ PRIITIR KATHÁ
HOYE TO VYATHÁ ÁNAMANE
KAILO KII TÁ KEJÁNE
PARÁG BAHE JÁR VARATÁ PÁPIYÁ GÁY
TÁRI GÁTHÁBHOMRÁ HESE SHUNATE ESE
PAŔALO DHARÁ MADHUVANE
KAILO KII TÁ KEJÁNE
MAN BHRAMARÁ VYATHÁY KÁTAR
GÁI SE TÁHÁR GÁTHÁ AMAR
TÁRI MADHUR TARE VIDHUR
JÁY SE CHÚT́E TÁRI PÁNE
KAILO KII TÁ KEJÁNE
BHOMORÁ GÁNE PHÚLER KÁNE
KAILO KII TÁ KEJÁNE
Floating along the current of pollen,
what did the bee whisper
into the ears of the flower?
Was it a love story
or an unmindful narration of agony?
The papiha bird sings of that story.
Hearing its song,
the bee smiles and sings along.
Although afflicted with pain,
that mental bee sings of His immortal glory.
Transported by and surcharged with His honey,
it rushes unto Him.