GÁN GEYE JÁI TOMÁKE SHONÁI
SHOŃO KI NÁ ÁMI JÁNI NÁ
SEDHE CALI SUR BHÁVE BHARAPÚR
BHÁŚÁR VICÁR MÁNI NÁ
SHOŃO KI NÁ ÁMI JÁNI NÁ
DHARÁ GHÚRE CALE PRIITIRI NIGAŔE
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
DHARÁ GHÚRE CALE PRIITIRI NIGAŔE
RÁGE TÁLE LAYE ABODHYA SVARE
SE DHVANI DHVANITA TAVA VIIŃÁ TÁRE
TUMI CHÁŔÁ KEU BOJHE NÁ
SHOŃO KI NÁ ÁMI JÁNI NÁ
SUR SAPTAKE MANDRITA ÁBHOGE
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
SUR SAPTAKE MANDRITA ÁBHOGE
NRTYE CHANDE MATHITA JE RÁGE
MOR MANOVIIŃÁ SE RAŃANE JÁGE
TÁKI TUMI PRIYA DEKHONÁ
SHOŃO KI NÁ ÁMI JÁNI NÁ
GÁN GEYE JÁI TOMÁKE SHONÁI
SHOŃO KI NÁ ÁMI JÁNI NÁ
I continue singing my song to You
but I do not know whether You hear it or not.
I keep perfecting the tune, full of feelings,
without any consideration of the language.
The earth goes round tied with the knot of love,
with tune, melody and rhythm,
in a sound that is difficult to understand.
That sound emanates from the strings of Your viina,
which, other than You, no one understands.
In the resonating base of the octave,
the melody that was churned with dance and rhythm,
arises in my mental viina as resonance,
this, O beloved,
You do not see.