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(2925)  Phulera vane bhomra sane

Along with the Bumblebee in a floral garden,
When had been the meeting,
To mind its date does not spring;
Love's hymn and memory of sweetness,
Them I can't forget in the least.

He continues swaying me, even today;
Overpowering, He makes me forget mind's pain.
A cluster of sun-flower spikes, thrilled by wind,
Whereto they float off, I don't perceive.

He goes on calling me through a rainbow's paint;
"Come, come, come", He says, ever and always.
Any and all wretchedness and any impurity,
They don't remain, for He came near to me.

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