India, a poetic hymn to

India, a poetic hymn to

Jai Bharat, Vande Maataram!

India! My India! Thou idol of Heaven's manifested grace!
India, our lady mother, Mother to Aryo-Dravidian race!
Thou art the fragment of Eden on earth,
For thou art the realm of humanity's sacred birth!

Mother! 

Thine is the fury of the southern Titanic sea,
Thine is the calmness of the forests of east,
Thine is the firmness of the Himalayas to the north,
And thine is the softness of the Morn's early mist!

Thine is the glory of lightning's fiery flash,
Thine is the light of the blessed, radiant dawn,
Thine is the music of the babble of thy streams,
And thine are our lives, that journey on and on.

Thine is the name that fuels the living with life,
And thine is the name that resurrects souls beyond Lethe,
Thine is the the name that erases our sorrows,
And thine is the name that conquers death!

Thine is the shower of compassion and joy,  
Thine is the tender flower of mercy,
Thine is the breathe that fills our lungs,
And thine is the aura of manifested glee!

Thine is the sword that punishes the cruel,
Thine is the shield that defends the weak,
Thine is the scale that weighs Justice itself,
And thine is the hand that blesses the meek!

Thine is the glory and thine is the treasure,
Thine is the bounty of thy wheat-filled farm,
Thine is the wealth that feeds the unfed,
And thine is the praise of thy own charm!

Thine is Bengal and its glorious glory,
Thine is the Punjab and its bravery's flames,
Thine is the Maratha, the south and the north,
And thine are Lakshadweep's coral-covered gems!

Thine is Bihar, thine along is Orissa,
Thine is the realm of the noble Tamil lands,
Thine is the crown of Kashmir's moonlit hills,
So art thou the Goddess, of countless hands!

Thine are our hearts, thine are our minds,
Thine is the might of the noble Aryan race,
And thine is the valour of the Dravidian south,
Mayest both thus, thou forever bless!

- Anirban Chatterjee