main bangali chhokra
karu pyar ko namaskaram
main madrashi chhokri, mujhe tumse pyaram
main bangali chhokra
karu pyar ko namaskaram
main madrashi chhokri, mujhe tumse pyaram

hamre bangla desh me, har gori ke lambe baal
luchhi re padpode dal
loki nachhe laale taal
khaye shudh machchhi dal
khaye gosh shudh khaye gosh
hamre bangla desh me, har gori ke lambe baal
aa aa aa aa
aaj to har bazar me saiya, milta nakli baal
karungi tere baat se solah shringaram
more jau mar jau
main madrashi chhokri, mujhe tumse pyaram
main bangali chhokra
karu pyar ko namaskaram
main madrashi chhokri, mujhe tumse pyaram

tum jo suno bangali gana
manwa jaye jhum
shokhi go tumaye chamunkda baavo
to jo suno bangali gana
manwa jaye jhum
leke banke naath ki saiyan
machi rut me dhum
ore baba
main hu payal saajna, aur tu jhankaram
main madrashi chhokri, mujhe tumse pyaram
main bangali chhokra
karu pyar ko namaskaram
main madrashi chhokri, mujhe tumse pyaram

sach puchho to mere dil me, pyar ille ille
o bangali mera hoja, kahti hain miss pille
sach puchho to mere dil me, pyar ille ille
o bangali mera hoja, kahti hain miss pille
pappy tujhe pukarti ganguli yaram
ki bole re
mera hoja sajana fir beda param
main bangali chhokra
karu pyar ko namaskaram
main madrashi chhokri, mujhe tumse pyaram

A Bengali boy, I greet love with a bow,
A Madras girl, to you, my love does flow.
A Bengali boy, I greet love with a bow,
A Madras girl, to you, my love does flow.

In our Bengal, long tresses of the fair,
Luchi with puffed-up dal, beyond compare.
The people dance, keeping rhythm’s beat,
Pure fish and dal, a culinary feat.
They eat their meat, pure and so divine,
In our Bengal, long tresses intertwine.
Ah, ah, ah, ah…
In every market now, dear, fake hair they sell,
With your words, sixteen adornments will I compel.
I could die, I could fade away…
I, a Madras girl, to you, love’s bright display.
A Bengali boy, I greet love with a bow,
A Madras girl, to you, my love does flow.

When you hear a Bengali song,
The heart begins to sway along.
Oh, darling, your smile, a dazzling gleam,
When you hear a Bengali song,
The heart begins to sway along.
With the beauty of a well-formed nose ring, dear,
In the season of dance, the rhythm is clear.
Oh, dear father…
I am a tinkling anklet, beloved, your chime’s refrain.
I, a Madras girl, to you, love's sweet domain.
A Bengali boy, I greet love with a bow,
A Madras girl, to you, my love does flow.

Truth be told, in my heart, love is not yet there,
Says Miss Pille, "Oh Bengali, be mine, to share!"
Truth be told, in my heart, love is not yet there,
Says Miss Pille, "Oh Bengali, be mine, to share!"
Kisses you, Ganguly, friend so near,
What does he say?
My love will be true, and I'll find my way.
A Bengali boy, I greet love with a bow,
A Madras girl, to you, my love does flow.