LYRIC

Bábá, evár jába ná ár jareri dake;
Raun-verauner khelná asár dáke ámáke.

Keu vá tárá meghe gherá,
Keu vá cánder áloy hárá;
Keu hayeche channachářá phánkiri páke.

Pather hadish keu jáne ná,
Path kena tá keu bojhe ná;
Kántár bhaye keu cale ná nijeri laksye.

Bábá, I shall not rush at the call of matter this time;
Frivolous toys of various colours beckon me constantly.

Some people are encircled by clouds,
Some are shorn of the shine of the moon,
Some lives have gone haywire in snares of deception.

No one has the clue to the right path.
No one understands what the path is for,
For fear of thorns, no one dares move unto one’s goal.


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