PS 4459
MOR MA'LA' HEMANTA PHULE HIMELA HA'OYA'Y DULE CALECHE
Renditions
Lyrics
Roman script
MOR MÁLÁ HEMANTA PHULE HIMER HAOÁY DULE CALECHE
PARÁTE TOMÁRI GALE MAN UTALÁ HOYE UT́HECHE HIMER HAOÁY DULE CALECHE
RÁGE ANURÁGE GÁNTHÁ ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ RÁGE ANURÁGE GÁNTHÁ CAYITA MÁLATII LATÁ SHATA HARŚA SHATA VYATHÁ MAN LUTÁTE KATHÁ KAHICHE HIMER HAOÁY DULE CALECHE
ESO PRIYA ÁRO KÁCHE ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ ESO PRIYA ÁRO KÁCHE BÁJIYE VEŃU MARMA MÁJHE ANTARETE JENO RÁJE SHÁSHVATII PRIITI MADHU MÁLAINCE HIMER HAOÁY DULE CALECHE
MOR MÁLÁ HEMANTA PHULE HIMER HAOÁY DULE CALECHE
Translation
My garland of autumn flowers goes on swinging with cold wind. O Lord, for placing it into Your neck, my mind becomes restless. Picked up from malatii creeper, and threaded with hue of love, it tells of hundreds of pains and pleasures of the mental cobweb. O Dear, come closer, playing Your flute within the core of the mind. So that within core of the garden Your eternal love resonates.
Thoughts
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