TOMÁRI LIILÁR MÁJHE AYUT RUPE SÁJE
NIJERE REKHECHO PRABHU D́HÁKIÁ
TOMÁRI GÁNE SURE TOMÁRI CHANDE BHARE
NIJERE REKHECHO PRABHU MÁTIÁ
ÁNKHI PRASÁRIÁ ÁMI JATA KICHU DEKHE JÁI
BHÁVER MATHIÁ ÁMI JÁHÁ KICHU BHEVE PÁI
SAKAL KICHURI KOŃE TUMI ÁCHO GOPANE
SARASATÁ SÁTHE MADHU MÁKHIÁ
NIJERE REKHECHO PRABHU D́HÁKIYÁ
DUHKHERA ÁNDHÁR MÁJHE TAVA JYOTI SADÁ RÁJE
HÁRIE JÁOÁR MÁJHE PHIRE PÁOÁ NAVA SÁJE
NEI NEI ÁCHE ÁCHE SABÁR UPARE ÁCHE
TAVA DYUTI SAB KLESHA NÁSHIÁ
NIJERE REKHECHO PRBHU D́HÁKIÁ
TOMÁRI LIILÁR MÁJHE AYUT RUPE SÁJE
NIJERE REKHECHO PRABHU D́HÁKIÁ
With a unique decoration of forms,
You have maintained Yourself disguised
within Your own divine game (liila'),
O Lord!
You have merged Yourself in Your own
song, melody and rhythm.
Whatever I see when opening my eyes widely,
whatever conclusion I derive by reasoning and contemplation,
in the depth of it all,
You exist hidden,
absorbed in a flow of sweetness.
Within the darkness of pain, Your light remains ever present.
Within losses, the reattainment of new forms is found.
Within negativity, Your positivity persists over and above.
Your light puts an end to all pains.