ARUŃ ÁLOKE PURVÁCALE
RÁGA SÁJIECHI PRIYA TOMÁRI ÁSHE
TUMI ELE NÁ SHONÁNO HOLO NÁ
SUR MOR KENDE KENDE BHÁSE ÁKÁSHE
RÁGA SÁJIECHI PRIYA TOMÁRI ÁSHE
BAESHÁKHE TARU SHÁKHE JÁ CHILO MUKUL
JHARITE DIINI TÁHÁ DULCHE DODUL
JYEŚT́HER KHAR TÁPE HOYECHI VYÁKUL
AKÁLE CÁMPÁR KALI JENO NÁ KHASE
RÁGA SÁJIECHI PRIYA TOMÁRI ÁSHE
VARAŚAY ÁSHÁ CHILO TUMI ÁSIBE
PRÁŃER PRADIIP MOR UDBHÁSIBE
KUMUD KETAKII JUTHI PUNAH HÁSIBE
ASHRUR PLÁVANE GELO TÁ BHESE
RÁGA SÁJIECHI PRIYA TOMÁRI ÁSHE
SHARATE SHEFÁLII VANE CHILO SAORABHA
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
SHARATE SHEFÁLII VANE CHILO SAORABHA
SHUBHRA MEGHER RAJATER GAORAVA
ÁSHÁ BHAUNGA HOLO GELO VAEBHAVA
ÁJAO TABU DULE JÁY KUSHE KÁSHE
RÁGA SÁJIECHI PRIYA TOMÁRI ÁSHE
ARUŃ ÁLOKE PURVÁCALE
RÁGA SÁJIECHI PRIYA TOMÁRI ÁSHE
In the eastern light of the rising sun
dear one, waiting for You
I embroidered my melody.
But You didn’t come, I wasn’t able to hear You.
And so my cries floated up to the sky.
Blossoms from April tree branches dropped
as the garden swing was set in motion.
In the severe May heat
I worried that the Young magnolia
blossoms would fall prematurely.
In the rainy season I again waited for You to come
to light the lamp of my life
I waited for the lotus and screwpine flowers
to once again smile together.
A flood of tears passed in that flow.
In the autumn shephalii garden fragrance arose.
The grey clouds appeared silver in their majesty.
But my hope was broken, that glory was lost.
And yet, today the swing continues
back and forth, amidst the tall grasses.