PS 4615
CALE GECHE MATHURA'TE A'J PRABHA'TE SHYA'MARA'Y
Renditions
Lyrics
Roman script
CALE GECHE MATHURÁTE ÁJ PRABHÁTE SHYAM RÁY SHYAM RÁY MOR SHYÁM RÁY
VIRASA TANU GOT́HER DHENU BÁJE NÁ VEŃU NIIP CHÁY SHYAM RÁY MOR SHYÁM RÁY
YAMUNÁ NÁ BAHE UJÁNE TAMÁL KÁNDE KENO KE JÁNE ABODHA GOPII VRNDÁVANE MÁKHAN CORE KHUNJE JÁY SHYAM RÁY MOR SHYÁM RÁY
LEHAN NÁHI KARE HARIŃ PUŚPAREŃU HOYE UDÁSIIN VRAJER ÁKÁSHA SHOKE MALIN HOLO SHUK SÁRIKÁY SHYAM RÁY MOR SHYÁM RÁY
CALE GECHE MATHURÁTE ÁJ PRBHÁTE SHYAM RÁY SHYAM RÁY MOR SHYÁM RÁY
Translation
My Kr’s’n’a, Shyam Ray, went to Mathura’ today morning. The cows in the pasture are gloomy, and the flute is not sounding in the shade of niip tree. The river Yamuna’ does not flow with tide. Why the palm tree cries, who knows. The ignorant devotees gopiis, of Vrnda’van go on searching the butter stealer, Krsna. The deer do not lick, and the floral pollen become sad. The sky of the Vraja is dull with sorrow and so the parrots and birds.
Thoughts
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