TOMÁY D́ÁKI DINE RÁTE
TUMI KI PÁO NÁ SHUNITE
D́ÁKI ÁLOY ÁNDHÁRETE
JÁGARAŃE SVAPNE NIDE
TUMI KI PÁO NÁ SHUNITE
DIN ÁSE DIN CALE JÁY
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
DIN ÁSE DIN CALE JÁY
CIR TARE KATA RÁT HÁRÁY
ÁSHÁ MARIICIKÁ MÁYÁY
BASE THÁKI CEYE PATHE
TUMI KI PÁO NÁ SHUNITE
GRIIŚME VARAŚÁY SHARATE
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
GRIIŚME VARAŚÁY SHARATE
HEMANTE SHIITER RITUTE
VYARTHA HOYEO THÁKI METE
BHÁVI ÁSIBE VASANTE
TUMI KI PÁO NÁ SHUNITE
TOMÁY D́ÁKI DINE RÁTE
TUMI KI PÁO NÁ SHUNITE
I call You day and night.
Are You not able to listen to me?
I call You in light and darkness,
in sleep, while awake and while dreaming.
The day comes and goes.
Many long nights have faded away.
In the illusive mirage of hope
I sit, looking at the path.
In summer, during the rainy season, in autumn,
during the prewinter and winter seasons,
I have remained engrossed in the thought
that the spring would eventually come.