MARUR JVÁLÁY TARULATÁ SHUKHÁY
PÁPAŔI JHARE JÁY AKÁLE
NADIR DHÁRÁ HÁRÁY UDAK UŔE JÁY
BALÁKÁ BHESE JÁY UCALE
PÁPAŔI JHARE JÁY AKÁLE
AJÁNÁ HE PATHIK ÁSO GO KŚAŃIK
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
AJÁNÁ HE PATHIK ÁSO GO KŚAŃIK
BÁREK BOLE JÁO SABAI KI ALIIK
SHYÁMALIMÁR CHÁYÁ MARUR ASHEŚA MÁYÁ
HOBE KI GRASTA ATALE
PÁPAŔI JHARE JÁY AKÁLE
ÁCHI KI NEI ÁMI ÁCHE KI NÁ E TUMI
ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ
ÁCHI KI NEI ÁMI ÁCHE KI NÁ E TUMI
SÁRÁTSÁR JÁNO HE PRABHU SHUDHU TUMI
BHÁVER DEULE HÁY ABHÁVA T́HÁIN NÁ PÁY
NIKKANE NÁHI NÁCE BETÁLE
PÁPAŔI JHARE JÁY AKÁLE
MARUR JVÁLÁY TARULATÁ SHUKHÁY
PÁPAŔI JHARE JÁY AKÁLE
With the heat of desert, the trees and creepers go on drying, petals whither untimely. The
current in the river gets lost, water goes on evaporating. The swans go on gliding high. O
The Unknown traveler, come for a while, tell me at least once if everything is false. Will
the shade of greenness be totally devoured by infinite mirage of the desert? Whether
“I” am there or not, whether the world exists or not, You only know the essence of
essence, O Lord. Alas in the temple of ideation, dearth cannot exist, the ankle bell does
not sound out of rhythm.