CAMPAKA VANE TUMI ESECHILE
BASECHILE MOR TARE
AHAETUKII KRPÁ KARE
ÁMI CHINU ABHIMÁNE ARGAL DIYE DVÁRE
AHAETUKII KRPÁ KARE
SE DINER KATHÁ BHÚLITE PÁRI NÁ
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
SE DINER KATHÁ BHÚLITE PÁRI NÁ
SE SMRITI MANANE DEY JE DYOTANÁ
ÁSHÁ NIRÁSHÁR MADHUR VEDANÁ
DOLÁ DEY BÁRE BÁRE
AHAETUKII KRPÁ KARE
CAMPAKA VANA ÁJO PAŔE ÁCHE
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
CAMPAKA VANA ÁJO PAŔE ÁCHE
SE TIIRTHAPATI DÚRE CALE GECHE
ÁMÁRI BHÚLE BHÁVANÁR MÚLE
BHÁLOBÁSÁ GECHE SARE
AHAETUKII KRPÁ KARE
CAMPAKA VANE TUMI ESECHILE
BASECHILE MOR TARE
AHAETUKII KRPÁ KARE
You came into the garden of campaka and waited for me.
This was Your causeless grace.
My ego had been hurt
and I had kept my doors bolted.
I am unable to forget the event of that day.
Its memory produces significant feelings in my mind.
The sweet pain of hope and hopelessness
swings to and fro again and again.
That garden of campaka is still there,
but the Deity in its arena of pilgrimage has left.
Due to my basic mistake of producing a wrong thought,
the love went away.