When born in Gopa land,
In the forests, their cattle you grazed.
Amidst the young cowherds often you danced,
Swaying from side to side.
On the right is the Lord
With a plough in hand,
Between the brothers in the centre,
Can be seen Subhadra, their darling sister.
On the left sits the Lord who holds
The conch, the wheel and the mace in his hands.
Says Salabega, the lowly one
By birth I am a Yavana.
Kamsa and the eight wrestlers you vanquished,
O Lord! Whom have you not redeemed?
Original Oriya hymn “Mote sehi rupa dekha-a Hari?.”