PS 4927
CAMPAKA VANE VASE EKA'SANE GA'NTHIYA'CHI MA'LA'KHA'NI
Renditions
Lyrics
Roman script
CAMPAKA VANE BASE EKÁSANE GÁNTHIYÁCHI MÁLÁKHÁNI ÁMI, GÁNTHIYÁCHI MÁLÁKHÁNI
BHARE HRDAY KHÁNI PARIBE GALÁY HE KARUŃÁMAYA DIINER ARGHYA MÁNI GÁNTHIYÁCHI MÁLÁKHÁNI ÁMI, GÁNTHIYÁCHI MÁLÁKHÁNI
SAB KÁJ PHELE PHUL TULIYÁCHI ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ SAB KÁJ PHELE PHUL TULIYÁCHI SHARAT SHISHIRE DHUIÁ ÁNIYECHI PRIITIRI D́ORE, GÁNTHIÁ REKHECHI NIO PRIYA KÁCHE T́ÁNI GÁNTHIYÁCHI MÁLÁKHÁNI ÁMI, GÁNTHIYÁCHI MÁLÁKHÁNI
VAN VIITHIKÁY E KUSUM CHILO ÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁÁ VAN VIITHIKÁY E KUSUM CHILO MAN GIITIKÁY DHARÁ PAŔE CHILO PARŃE GANDHE UCHALITE CHILO CHILO VÁK HIIN VÁŃII GÁNTHIYÁCHI MÁLÁKHÁNI ÁMI, GÁNTHIYÁCHI MÁLÁKHÁNI
CAMPAKA VANE BASE EKÁSANE GÁNTHIYÁCHI MÁLÁKHÁNI ÁMI, GÁNTHIYÁCHI MÁLÁKHÁNI
Translation
O Lord, sitting in one posture in the garden of campak flowers, I was threading garlands with full heart. Assuming that You would wear that, accepting as an offering of this poor. Ignoring all works, I pick up flowers, and bring after washing in the dew drops of the winter. I have kept them threaded with the twine of love, take it, O Lord, pulling close. The flowers present at the garden lane, with mental songs, they had dropped on the ground. With leaves and fragrance, they have juped, but had words without speech.
Thoughts
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