(adhora madhuri dhorechhi chhando-bondhone)
Finally I intoned the pleasant rhythmic song
It’s bird of farthest morning
Singing song of distant night
Feather stained in red-Asoke of last Spring
Scent hiding in fallen Asoke
Oh my, beautiful foreigner
Please call by its name since known to you
It knows sky of your land, and those stars
Responding to tunes of your Bokul-forest
Dancing by the rhythm of your feet
Please call by its name
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