On Freedom

Freedom from fear is the freedom

I claim for you my motherland!

 

Freedom from the burden of the 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’s stillness,

Mistrusting the star that speaks of truth’s adventurous paths;

 

Freedom from the anarchy of destiny

Whole sails are weakly 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 mimicry of life.

 

(c) Rabindranath Tagore

 

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