CAETII HAOÁY MAN JÁRE CÁY
SE JE GO KATA DÚR
TÁHÁRI ÁSÁ PATHE MAN JE CALE CHUT́E
VEDANÁTE VIDHÚR
SE JE GO KATA DÚR
KENO GO KENO GO KENO SE DÚRE THÁKE
JÁR JÁNÁ ÁCHE ÁMÁY BOLO NÁ
METECHI METECHI TÁRI BHÁVANÁTE
BHÁVANÁ BHULE JETE PÁRI NÁ
NIRÁLÁ? RÁTE JYOTSANÁ SÁTHE
KENDE MARI VYATHÁTUR
SE JE GO KATA DÚR
BHOMORÁ GÁNE GÁNE KAHE JE KÁNE KÁNE
ÁSHÁ TE BHARÁ SUR
SE JE GO KATA DÚR
In this autumnal wind,
the One who the mind longs for,
remains far.
My mind, afflicted with pains,
rushes towards the path of His arrival.
Why, why, why is He so far?
Whoever knows why, tell me!
I am intoxicated by His ideation,
unable to forget.
In this lonely moonlit night,
I am dying from pangs of separation.
Into my ears, the honeybee whispers
melodious songs of optimism.