Cry out: Long live India! Cry out: Long live India!

.

I swear by the colourful garden watered by blood!

I swear by the peasants’ blood, by the blood of martyrs!

It’s possible that the world’s oceans may become dry;

It’s possible that the flowing rivers may get tired and go to sleep;

It’s possible that hell’s live coals may stop burning;

It’s possible that lightning currents may abandon their course;

This sacred earth can no longer bear impurities; 

The candle of our country’s freedom can never be silenced.

.

Cry out: Long live India! Cry out: Long live India!

.

That Indian youth, standard-bearers of freedom,

Guardians of the country, the sharp sword of liberty,

The pure, lightning-washed spark,

The live coal in which life has mingled itself,

The candle of existence nurtured by strange winds,

A canoe supported by storms,

The kick with which the universe tremble;

The current on whose breast the barge of action sails!

The hidden, silent sighs flung forth like Doomsday’s tumult;

The sparks lying low have exploded in the form of the Eastern sun;

The Indian youth has changed the fate of the prison; 

The chain of captivity has been broken asunder by the warrior’s glance.

.

Cry out: Long live India! Cry out: Long live India!

.
          1947

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From: Bisāt̤-i raqṣ (Dance Carpet). Ḥaidarābād, Inḍiyā: Istiqbāliyah kameṭī jashn-i Mak̲h̲dūm, 1966. pp. 49 – 51