PS 4340
HE MOR VARAS'A' TUMII BHARASA' KRPA' VA'RI D'HA'LA
Renditions
Lyrics
Roman script
HE MOR VARAŚÁ TUMII BHAROSÁ KRPÁVÁRI D́HÁLO DHÁN SHUKHÁY JÁY
ÁKÁSHE MEGH T́ÁNO JOŔETE VEGA ÁNO HAŔAKÁ JENO NECE DHÁY DHÁN SHUKHÁY JÁY
ÁTÁR PHUL DÚRE BHUTALE ÁCHE PAŔE ÁNJIIR KALI PAŔE JHARE JHARE KENDU PÁTÁ PUŔE AKÁLE JÁY MARE MAHUL KACAŔÁ SHUKÁY DHÁN SHUKHÁY JÁY
E BÁR JALA ÁNO O GO DAYAL PRABHU MODER KATHÁ SHONO NIDAY NÁ HOYO? KABHU DUHKHA SABAI JÁNO MORÁ JÁNÁI TABU AKÁLA ÁSATE JENO NÁ PÁY DHÁN SHUKHÁY JÁY
HE MOR VARAŚÁ TUMII BHAROSÁ KRPÁVÁRI D́HÁLO DHÁN SHUKHÁY JÁY
Translation
O My rain, You are the only hope, pour the water of grace, the paddy is getting dried. Pull clouds in the sky, bring flow of current in the river, so that flood rushes dancing. The flower of a’ta’, is lying far on the ground. The buds of a’njiir drop withered. The kendu leaves untimely die out. The buds of mahul dry up. I The Kind Lord, bring water this time, listen to my story, never become merciless. Though You know sorrows of all, yet I tell You, so that famine does not come.
Thoughts
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