 | "Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high; Where knowledge is free; Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls; Where words come out from the depth of truth; Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection; Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit; Where the mind is lead forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action- Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake." "Geetanjali" - Rabindranath Tagore |
 | Better than Heaven or Arcadia I love thee, O my India! And thy love I shall give To every brother nation that lives. God made the Earth; Man made confining countries And their fancy-frozen boundaries. But with unfound boundless love I behold the borderland of my India Expanding into the World. Hail, mother of religions, lotus, scenic beauty,and sages! Thy wide doors are open, Welcoming God's true sons through all ages. Where Ganges, woods, Himalayan caves, and men dream God - I am hallowed; my body touched that sod. - Swami Yogananda Paramhansa |
 | Is there ought you need that my hands withhold, Rich gifts of raiment or grain or gold? Lo ! I have flung to the East and the West Priceless treasures torn from my breast, And yielded the sons of my stricken womb To the drum-beats of the duty, the sabers of doom. Gathered like pearls in their alien graves Silent they sleep by the Persian waves, Scattered like shells on Egyptian sands, They lie with pale brows and brave, broken hands, they are strewn like blossoms mown down by chance On the blood-brown meadows of Flanders and France. Can ye measure the grief of the tears I weep Or compass the woe of the watch I keep? Or the pride that thrills thro' my heart's despair And the hope that comforts the anguish of prayer? And the far sad glorious vision I see Of the torn red banners of victory? when the terror and the tumult of hate shall cease And life be refashioned on anvils of peace, And your love shall offer memorial thanks To the comrades who fought on the dauntless ranks, And you honour the deeds of the dauntless ones, Remember the blood of my martyred sons! The Gift of India - Sarojini Naidu |
