Even if the flood of destruction
Destroys the foundation of our existence,
Truth will be our helmsman
And we care not for the strom.
Though this path bristles with fears
And the destination lies somewhere distant,
Summon strength to your heart and
What is ultimate in life
Will descend on you proclaiming in
Its trumpet voice that there’s nothing to fear.
Why this lament, oh brother,
The good old day that we have lost,
Will dawn again in India.
This land that has been turned
Into a desert, will blossom again
into a garden, and smile.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
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hai, this me.............