Freedom from fear is the freedom
I claim for you, my motherland!
Freedom from the burden of ages, bending your head
Breaking your back, blinding your eyes to the beckoning call of the future
Freedom from the shackles of slumber wherewith
You fasten yourself in night stillness,
Mistrusting the star that speaks of truth’s adventurous path,
Freedom from the anarchy of the destiny
Whose sails are weekly yielded to the blind uncertain winds,
And the helm to a hand ever rigid and cold as death
Freedom from the insult of dwelling in a puppet’s world,
Where movements are started through brainless wires,
Repeated through mindless habits,
Where figures wait with patience and obedience for
The master of show,
To be stirred into a moment’s mimicry of life.
RABINDRANATH TAGORE
Beckoning : making a sign
Shackles : fetters
Slumber : to sleep
Dwelling : house
