হেলাফেলা সারা বেলা
helaphela shara bela
The whole day comes to naught
What is this game I play with myself
Whose face do I recall
In the flower scented breeze
Who knows whose smile
Flutters across my sight
Leaving behind a teardrop
In the corner of my eyes
Who is it in stoic indifference
Plays a languorous tune
Beneath which yonder shade
Wails as if an aching heart
In the song of the flute
All day long I string my song
For whom sings my heart
Like a shadow I sit
Beneath a tree in the garden
helaphela shara bela
The whole day comes to naught
What is this game I play with myself
Whose face do I recall
In the flower scented breeze
Who knows whose smile
Flutters across my sight
Leaving behind a teardrop
In the corner of my eyes
Who is it in stoic indifference
Plays a languorous tune
Beneath which yonder shade
Wails as if an aching heart
In the song of the flute
All day long I string my song
For whom sings my heart
Like a shadow I sit
Beneath a tree in the garden
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