PS 4458
KETAKII KESHARA GECHE KA'N'E KADAMBAKALI KA'NDICHE
Renditions
Lyrics
Roman script
KETAKI KESHAR KAYE GECHE KÁŃE KADAMBA KALI KÁNDICHE SHVANANE SHVANANE SHVANICHE
AŃU YAMUNÁY TANU MEKHALÁY UJÁN ÁJ NÁ BAHICHE SHVANANE SHVANANE SHVANICHE
MAYUR MAYURI VAN HARIŃII PRATIIKŚMÁN DIVAS YÁMINI KÁR PRIITITE SMRITIR SHROTE BHÁSIBE BHÁVITE NÁ PÁRICHE SHVANANE SHVANANE SHVANICHE
TAMÁL KUNJE VEŃU NIKUNJE ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ TAMÁL KUNJE VEŃU NIKUNJE ALI ÁJAO UŔE PUNJE PUNJE BÁJE NÁ SE VÁNSHI PHOT́ENÁ SE HÁSI NIILOTPALA HÁRIE GECHE SHVANANE SHVANANE SHVANICHE
KETAKI KESHAR KAYE GECHE KÁŃE KADAMBA KALI KÁNDICHE SHVANANE SHVANANE SHVANICHE
Translation
The pollen of katakii flower told into my ears that the buds of kadamba cry. It resonates in each sound, the microcosmic river Yamuna’, does not flow with tides today into the series of bodies. The peacocks, peahens, deer, are awaiting day and night. They cannot imagine, under whose stream of memories, with love You would float. In the groves of palms and bamboos, even today the bees hover in groups. That flute does not play, that smile is not scattered, the blue lotus is lost.
Thoughts
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