Nácer tále egiye cale
Áltáráuṋgá mát́i
Mát́i e to nayko jeno
E je ámár má t́i
Dháner kśeter shiiśe shiiśe
Sońár álo ut́hche bhese
Mát́ir mánuś dekhche ceye
Satyi sońá kháṋt́i
Mát́i ámár má t́i
Ákásh tárá phuler suvás
Miśt́imadhur jal ár vátás
Sabár sáthe rayeche mor
Cokh juŕono mát́i
Mát́i ámár má t́i
Bandhu jadi bhálabáso
Eman dine káche eso
Tomár krpáy gaŕbo áji
Satyi mánuś kháṋt́i
Mát́i ámár má t́i
With the rhythm of dance it proceeds,
This reddish-colored earth.
Know that it's not clay only;
Lo, it is my mother.
In paddy fields on the rice-spikes,
Arises a golden light;
Men of the land deem that to be
The purest gold indeed...
The earth, it is my mother.
The stars and sky, the floral scent,
Water and air, sweetly pleasant;
Along with these abides for me
The soil, so eye-pleasing...
The earth, it is my mother.
My Friend, if You do hold me dear,
This very day, please come near;
By Your grace, we will create
True human beings for real...
The earth, it is my mother.
