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Independence day

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Saare jahaan se achha

Hindustan hamaara

Hum bulbule(n) hai(n) uski

Woh gulsitaan hamaara.

 

Parbat woh sabse uncha

Hamsaya a’smanka

Woh santari hamaara

Woh pasban hamaara.

 

Godime(n) khelti hai(n)

Jiski hazaaro(n) nadiya

Gulshan hai jinki damse

Raksh-I-jinan hamaara..

 

Mazhab nahin sikhaata

Aapas main bair rakhna

Hindi hain hum watan hai

Hindustan hamaara.

 

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Jana-gana-mana-adhinaayaka, jaya he

Bhaarata-bhagya-vidhaataa

Punjaaba-Sindhu-Gujarata-Marathaa

Draavida-Utkala -Banga

Vindhya-Himaachala-Yamunaa-Gangaa

Uchchala-Jaladhi-taranga

Tava shubha naame jaage

Tava shubha ashisha maange

Gaaye tava jaya gaatha

Jana-gana-mangala-daayaka jaya he

Bhaarata-bhaagya-vidhaataa

Jaya he, jaya he, jaya he

Jaya jaya, jaya, jaya he!! "

 

The following is Tagore's English rendering of the stanza: "Thou art the ruler of the minds of all people, dispenser of India's destiny. Thy name rouses the hearts of Punjab, Sindh, Gujarat and Maratha, of the Dravida and Orissa and Bengal it echoes in the hills of the Vindhyas and Himalayas, Mingles in the music of Jamuna and Ganges and is chanted by the waves of the Indian Sea. They pray for thy blessings and sing thy praise. The saving of all people waits in thy hand, thou dispenser of India's destiny victory, victory, victory, victory to thee."

 

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vande maataraM

sujalaaM suphalaaM malayaja shiitalaaM

sasyashyaamalaaM maataraM ||

Mother, I bow to thee!

Rich with thy hurrying streams,

bright with orchard gleams,

Cool with thy winds of delight,

Dark fields waving Mother of might,

Mother free.

 

shubhrajyotsnaa pulakitayaaminiiM

pullakusumita drumadala shobhiniiM

suhaasiniiM sumadhura bhaashhiNiiM

sukhadaaM varadaaM maataraM ||

Glory of moonlight dreams,

Over thy branches and lordly streams,

Clad in thy blossoming trees,

Mother, giver of ease

Laughing low and sweet!

Mother I kiss thy feet,

Speaker sweet and low!

Mother, to thee I bow.

koTi koTi kaNTha kalakalaninaada karaale

koTi koTi bhujai.rdhR^itakharakaravaale

abalaa keno maa eto bale

bahubaladhaariNiiM namaami taariNiiM

ripudalavaariNiiM maataraM ||

Who hath said thou art weak in thy lands

When the sword flesh out in the seventy million hands

And seventy million voices roar

Thy dreadful name from shore to shore?

With many strengths who art mighty and stored,

To thee I call Mother and Lord!

Though who savest, arise and save!

To her I cry who ever her foeman drove

Back from plain and Sea

And shook herself free.

tumi vidyaa tumi dharma

tumi hR^idi tumi marma

tvaM hi praaNaaH shariire

baahute tumi maa shakti

hR^idaye tumi maa bhakti

tomaara i pratimaa gaDi

mandire mandire ||

Thou art wisdom, thou art law,

Thou art heart, our soul, our breath

Though art love divine, the awe

In our hearts that conquers death.

Thine the strength that nervs the arm,

Thine the beauty, thine the charm.

Every image made divine

In our temples is but thine.

tvaM hi durgaa dashapraharaNadhaariNii

kamalaa kamaladala vihaariNii

vaaNii vidyaadaayinii namaami tvaaM

 

namaami kamalaaM amalaaM atulaaM

sujalaaM suphalaaM maataraM ||

Thou art Durga, Lady and Queen,

With her hands that strike and her

swords of sheen,

Thou art Lakshmi lotus-throned,

And the Muse a hundred-toned,

Pure and perfect without peer,

Mother lend thine ear,

Rich with thy hurrying streams,

Bright with thy orchard gleems,

Dark of hue O candid-fair

 

shyaamalaaM saralaaM susmitaaM bhuushhitaaM

dharaNiiM bharaNiiM maataraM ||

In thy soul, with jewelled hair

And thy glorious smile divine,

Lovilest of all earthly lands,

Showering wealth from well-stored hands!

Mother, mother mine!

Mother sweet, I bow to thee,

Mother great and free!

 

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