PST 0655 - Kali phuteche ali juteche

Kali phut́eche ali jut́eche
Mandamadhura vátás bahiche
Práń pete cáy ájike káre háy
Kon se apsará man keŕe niyeche

Jyotsnáloke áj bhuliyá bhay láj
Khuliyá hiina sáj hiyá káre cáhiche

Komala trńa pare shyámala sej ghire
Acená citacore d́ák diye caleche

Bhúdhare ságare marme gabhiire
Sparshacetana táre jhauṋkára jágiche

Blossomed is the bud, assembled are the bees;
Blowing is a sweet and gentle breeze.
Desperate now, keenly I long to find
That nymph divine who's carried off my mind.

On this moonlit night, forgetting fear and shyness,
My naked, questing heart catches sight of the miscreant.

A fragile blade of grass, fitted out only in green,
Waves about, summoned by an unidentified mind-thief.

On mountains and in the sea, and in my deepest feelings,
By the touch of consciousness, a humming's been awakened.