YOU LIVE alone and unrecompensed
because they are afraid of your great worth.

THY CALL HAS sped over all countries of the world
and men have gathered around thy seat.
The day is come.
But where is India?
Does she still remain hidden, lagging behind?
Let her take up her burden and march with all.
Send her, mighty God, thy message of victory,
O Lord ever awake!
Those who defied suffering have crossed
the wilderness of death and have shattered
their prison of illusions.
The day is come.
But where is India?
Her listless arms are idle and ashamed
and futile her days and nights, lacking in joy of life.
Touch her with thy living breath,
O Lord ever awake!
The morning sun of the new age has risen.
Thy temple hall is filled with pilgrims.
The day is come.
But where is India?
She lies on the dust in dishonour,
deprived of her seat.
Remove her shame, and give her a place
in thy House of Man,
O Lord ever awake!
The world's highroads are crowded,
resounding with the roar of thy chariot wheels.
The sky is trembling with travellers' songs.
The day is come.
But where is India?
Doors are shut in her house age-worn,
feeble is her hope, her heart sunk in silence.
Send thy voice to her children who are dumb,
O Lord ever awake!
Peoples there are who have felt thy strength
in their own hearts and sinews
and have earned life's fulfilment,
conquering fear.
The day is come.
But where is India?
Strike thy blow at her self-suspicion and despair!
Save her from the dread of her own pursuing shadow,
O Lord ever awake!

'WE, THE rustling leaves, have a voice that answers the storms, but who are you so silent?'
'I am a mere flower.'