BALÁKÁR DALA CAL E JÁY
KON DESHA PÁNE KE JÁNE
KOTHÁ HOTE ESE, KOTHÁ JÁY BHESE
KON ALAKÁR T́ÁNE
UTTAR MERU DAKŚIŃ MERU
KIMVÁ GOBI SAHÁRAR MARU
SHIITE NIŚPATRA JETHÁY TARU
SETHÁ HOTE KOTHÁ ACINE
KOTHÁ HOTE ESE, KOTHÁ JÁY BHESE
SÁGAR PÁRE KON SE MITRA
COKHE ÁNKE DÚR RAUNGIIN CITRA
TÁI DINE RÁTE TAME ACHIDRA
D́ÁNÁ MELE ÁCHE GAGANE
KOTHÁ HOTE ESE, KOTHÁ JÁY BHESE
BALÁKÁR DALA CAL E JÁY
KON DESHA PÁNE KE JÁNE
KOTHÁ HOTE ESE, KOTHÁ JÁY BHESE
A flock of swans soars into the sky.
Who knows to which land they’re flying?
Who knows from where they come
where they go
and which heaven pulls them?
There are mountains in the north
mountains in the south
and deserts like Gobi and Sahara
where in winter the trees are bare
places that are unknown.
Beyond the ocean
in the eyes of which faraway friend
does their colourful image appear?
Day and night even in perfect darkness
they spread their wings to the heavens.