KON SE AJÁNÁ SHROTE
ESE CHILE ÁLO HÁTE
GHUM BHÁUNGÁTE EI RÁTE
ÁNDHÁRE ÁVRITA CHILO
VIKÁSHERA SHATADALA
SE NISHIITHE
GHUM BHÁUNGÁTE EI RÁTE
ASHRU NIHITA VYATHÁ
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
ASHRU NIHITA VYATHÁ
RACE CHILO ITIKATHÁ
NÁ PÁOÁR VYÁKULATÁ
KENDE CHE MALAY VÁTE
GHUM BHÁUNGÁTE EI RÁTE
KATA SUŚAMÁR RÁSHI
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
KATA SUŚAMÁR RÁSHI
ANÁDARE GECHE BHÁSI
KATA JYOTSNÁR HÁSI
MISHECHE TAMASÁTE
GHUM BHÁUNGÁTE EI RÁTE
KON SE AJÁNÁ SHROTE
ESE CHILE ÁLO HÁTE
GHUM BHÁUNGÁTE EI RÁTE
Through which unknown origin did You come that night
with light in Your hand to break my slumber?
That night, the hundred-petalled lotus of development was covered with darkness.
My history had been created with tearful agony.
The sandal breeze had been crying with the restless agony of non-attainment.
Much beauty had disappeared, floating away into darkness.
Many moonlit smiles too had faded into darkness.