VRINDÁVANER MÁŃIK KÁŃU
KOTHÁY GELE MODER PHELE
NANDA PITÁ MÁ YASHODÁ
DHENU VEŃU GIYE BHÚLE
KOTHÁY GELE MODER PHELE
YAMUNÁ ÁJ EKELÁ DHÁY
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
YAMUNÁ ÁJ EKELÁ DHÁY
KADAM TARU PHUL NÁ PHOT́ÁY
TAMÁL TALE BHÁUNGÁ GOKULE
KÁLOR ÁLO ÁR NÁ DOLE
KOTHÁY GELE MODER PHELE
MODER JIIVAN TUMI SHYÁM RÁY
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
MODER JIIVAN TUMI SHYÁM RÁY
TUMII GELE SAB CALE JÁY
ÁJ VEŃU VANE GOVARDHANE
KEU NÁ TÁKÁY ÁNKHI MELE
KOTHÁY GELE MODER PHELE
VRINDÁVANER MÁŃIK KÁŃU
KOTHÁY GELE MODER PHELE
O ruby gem of Vrindavan, Kanu,
leaving me, where have You gone to?
You forgot father Nanda, mother Yashoda,
the cows and the bambooflute.
The Yamuna river is flowing solitarily.
The kadam tree does not bloom.
Below the tamal tree at the broken cowshed,
there is darkness, no light whatsoever.
In my life, You are the sole king,
O Shyam Rai.
You being gone, all are gone.
Today, in the bamboo grove,
at the Govardhan hills,
nobody sees with open eyes.