Mor madhumálaince esa Ghanashyám,
Ami sájáye rekhechi phulapallave;
Rákár cakor sama canderi páne,
Tárá ceye jáy gopiijanavallabhe.

Ache madhaviilatá áche ákulatá,
Áche priya paritoś tare vyákulatá;
Áche rágánugá bháve bhará vihvalatá,
Cái rágitmika dyuti anubhave.

Áche puśpastavak májhe madhur korak,
Ache candane aguru sampúrak;
Ache maner maniháre gánthá hiirak
Vaejayantii-smita Kaostubhe.

Come, Lord Krśna, into my sweet flower garden,
I have kept it decorated with flowers and foliage;
Just as the moon bird gazes at the moon,
They all stare at the sweet Lord of the devotees, whom they are ever
eager to please.

There are madhavii creepers in ardent wait,
There is a keenness to please the dear One,
There are overflowing feelings – loving to get pleasure –
I want to feel the radiance – loving to give pleasure.

There are bouquets of flowers with buds of nectar,
There is the fragrance of aguru in sandal paste as a complement,
There are diamonds woven into the jewelled necklace of my mind,
There is the smiling multicoloured garland,
Glittering with the Kaostubha

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