IISHÁN KOŃETE BEJE UT́HECHE VIŚÁŃ
KII KATHÁ SE BOLITE CÁY
HE RUDRA BHAERAVA KENO NECECHO
KAMPANE ULKÁ JHARÁY
KII KATHÁ SE BOLITE CÁY
TÁŃD́AVA NÁCO, PÁSHE NÁŔÁ DIYE
BADHIR ÁLOR RATH ÁGE BÁŔIYE
KII JE KARO, KENO KARO, MAHESHVARA
NÁ BUJHE AVÁK ÁNKHI SHUDHU DEKHE JÁY
KII KATHÁ SE BOLITE CÁY
JAT́Á JÁL KHULE PHELE BÁNDHAN HÁRÁ
HOYECHO PRABHU TUMI CHANDA BHARÁ
NRITYER TÁLE TÁLE EGIYE CALE
JE DHVANI JÁGÁLE TÁTE JYOTI JHALAKÁY
KII KATHÁ SE BOLITE CÁY
IISHÁN KOŃETE BEJE UT́HECHE VIŚÁŃ
KII KATHÁ SE BOLITE CÁY
From the northeastern corner,
the long horn has started sounding.
What does it wish to convey?
O Lord Shiva,
Your dance scatters meteorites in oscillating waves.
You dance the jumping Tandava dance,
giving jerk to sin.
You guide forward the deaf chariot of light.
O Greatest controlling God,
why do You do whatever You do?
My eyes are unable to understand and speechlessly look on.
The web of Your matted hair has opened out freely.
With that, O Lord,
You have become full of rhythm.
With each rhythmic step,
You move on,
in the light-flashing sound that is awakened.