(adhora madhuri dhorechhi chhondo-bondhomne)
I have captured the undetected tune in rhythm
Oh that is the farthest-morning-bird
Singing the farthest night’s song
Its wings are colored by the red Asoke-flower
Of the previous springseason
Scent of those fallen flowers covering its heart
Oh foreign-lady, call by his name
Since he knows you
He knows your lands skyline, your night-stars
He responds to the songs of your Bokul-forest
Dancing by the rhythm of your feet
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