TUMI YADI MOR NÁHI ELE PRIYA
VRTHÁI ÁMÁR GHAR BÁNDHÁ
VRTHÁI ÁMÁR GHAR BÁNDHÁ
VRTHÁ CALÁR PATHE ÁLPANÁ ÁNKÁ
VRTHÁI SVÁGATA SUR SÁDHÁ
VRTHÁI ÁMÁR GHAR BÁNDHÁ
VRTHÁI ÁMÁR GHAR BÁNDHÁ
JAKHAN JÁHÁKE BOLITE SHUNECHI
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
JAKHAN JÁHÁKE BOLITE SHUNECHI
TOMÁR KATHÁ TÁRNIKAT́E GEYECHI
SÁGRAHE TÁR KÁCHE SHUDHÁYECHI
BOLO SE PRIYA MOR THÁKE KOTHÁ
VRTHÁI ÁMÁR GHAR BÁNDHÁ
VRTHÁI ÁMÁR GHAR BÁNDHÁ
SABÁI BOLECHE SE PRIYA RAYECHE
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
SABÁI BOLECHE SE PRIYA RAYECHE
MANER GAHANE LIILÁY METECHE
KABHU KÁNDIYECHE, KABHU HÁSIYECHE
SE BHALOBÁSÁ NAY CHAKE BÁNDHÁ
VRTHÁI ÁMÁR GHAR BÁNDHÁ
VRTHÁI ÁMÁR GHAR BÁNDHÁ
TUMI YADI MOR NÁHI ELE PRIYA
VRTHÁI ÁMÁR GHAR BÁNDHÁ
VRTHÁI ÁMÁR GHAR BÁNDHÁ
O Dear, if You do not come, useless is my home construction. Waste is my sketching of
welcome mark, a’lpana on Your arrival path, and my rehearsing of welcome melody.
Whenever I hear someone speaking about You, I went near him and prayerfully enquired him
where was my Dear. All tell that the Dear stays in the depth of the mind, engrossed in the
illusive game, liila’. Sometimes making one cry, sometimes making one smile, and that is
love, not bondage of planned game.