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