4615 (30/03/1989) (Krsna)


CALE GECHE MATHURÁTE ÁJ
PRABHÁTE SHYAM RÁY
SHYAM RÁY MOR SHYÁM RÁY

VIRASA TANU GOT́HER DHENU
BÁJE NÁ VEŃU NIIP CHÁY
SHYAM RÁY MOR SHYÁM RÁY

YAMUNÁ NÁ BAHE UJÁNE
TAMÁL KÁNDE KENO KE JÁNE
ABODHA GOPII VRNDÁVANE
MÁKHAN CORE KHUNJE JÁY
SHYAM RÁY MOR SHYÁM RÁY

LEHAN NÁHI KARE HARIŃ
PUŚPAREŃU HOYE UDÁSIIN
VRAJER ÁKÁSHA SHOKE MALIN
HOLO SHUK SÁRIKÁY
SHYAM RÁY MOR SHYÁM RÁY

CALE GECHE MATHURÁTE ÁJ
PRBHÁTE SHYAM RÁY
SHYAM RÁY MOR SHYÁM RÁY







My Kr’s’n’a, Shyam Ray, went to Mathura’ today morning. The cows in the pasture
are gloomy, and the flute is not sounding in the shade of niip tree. The river Yamuna’
does not flow with tide. Why the palm tree cries, who knows. The ignorant devotees
gopiis, of Vrnda’van go on searching the butter stealer, Krsna. The deer do not
lick, and the floral pollen become sad. The sky of the Vraja is dull with sorrow and so
the parrots and birds.