In his hand the leather ball spines
For the player at the wicket his eye skims
In a second, towards the wicket, he spins the ball
Which comes and hits the wicket and fall
The batsman trembled, so did the others
While the cheer goes high of the Lankan brothers
The batsmen stunned and thought thoroughly
A way of getting away from Murali
On the land of Sri Lanka, on the sacred soil
The name of Murali makes teams recoil
The spinning ball comes out from his hand
Brought prestige and glamour to the mother land
The heroism you showed with the maroon ball
Wondered, marveled and amazed us all
Humble you with a your unfeigned smile
Sincere brother hood in your agonic while
Was a river through rocks which enshrines
The beauty of life that forever shines
With a heart full of wishes, mouth full of cheers
We tribute Murali with some drops of tears
Off our hats for a hero of time
The entire world chants that single hymn
Murali, Murali the master-spinner
Forever and always you are the winner
Neither your colour nor your religion
Neither your country nor your nation
Has been cared but the magic of winning
Vanquished all by the charm of spinning
Murali, we tribute the name of yours!
Murali we honour the figure of yours!
Murali, we accolade the “Spin” of yours!
And, Murali we are with you with the life of yours!