PS 3974
CAMPAKAKALI JHARIYA' GIYA'CHE
Renditions
Lyrics
Roman script
CAMPAK KALI JHARIÁ GIYÁCHE MANER KUINJA VANE ÁMÁR
SE PRIYA ÁSENI STABAK NEYANI PHUL SAHE NI SE VEDANÁ BHÁR MANER KUINJA VANE ÁMÁR
PRABHÁTE UT́HIÁGENTHE CHINU MÁLÁ ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ PRABHÁTE UT́HIÁGENTHE CHINU MÁLÁ RÁGÁTMIKÁR MADHU TÁTE D́HÁLÁ SÁJIYE SONÁLII VARAŃA D́ÁLÁ PATH PÁNE CEYE CHINU TÁHÁR MANER KUINJA VANE ÁMÁR
SAMVIT BOLE SAMAY ESECHE ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ SAMVIT BOLE SAMAY ESECHE EKHANAO TÁHÁR ÁSÁR ÁSHÁ ÁCHE PRIITIR DEULE SÁJÁIÁ PHULE DIIPJVELE D́ÁKO? TÁRE EBÁR MANER KUINJA VANE ÁMÁR
CAMPAK KALI JHARIÁ GIYÁCHE MANER KUINJA VANE ÁMÁR
Translation
In my mental garden, the bud of campa’ withered down. The Dear did not come, did not accept the offering in the hands, the flowers could not bear the load of this agony. Getting up in the morning, I threaded the garland, poured the honey of total devotion into that, decorating the golden tray of colours, I stood beside the path of His arrival. The consciousness tells that there was still time, even now there is hope of His arrival. Decorating the temple of love with flowers, kindle lamp and call Him again this time.
Thoughts
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