http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?blogId=428 Bharath Matha Ki Jai Vande maataraM   sujalaaM suphalaaM malayaja shiitalaaM   SasyashyaamalaaM maataram ||      Shubhrajyotsnaa pulakitayaaminiiM   pullakusumita drumadala shobhiniiM   suhaasiniiM sumadhura bhaashhiNiiM   sukhadaaM varadaaM maataraM ||      Koti koti kantha kalakalaninaada karaale   koti koti bhujai.rdhR^itakharakaravaale   abalaa keno maa eto bale   bahubaladhaariNiiM namaami taariNiiM   ripudalavaariNiiM maataraM ||     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 ||      TvaM hi durgaa dashapraharaNadhaariNii   kamalaa kamaladala vihaariNii   vaaNii vidyaadaayinii namaami tvaaM   Namaami kamalaaM amalaaM atulaaM   SujalaaM suphalaaM maataraM ||     ShyaamalaaM saralaaM susmitaaM bhuushhitaaM   DharaNiiM bharaNiiM maataraM |"                 Translation by Shree Aurobindo 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.     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.          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.            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.       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    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!           http://blogs.fullhyderabad.com/showblog.php?op=ViewArticle&articleId=2626&blogId=428 Tue, 12 Sep 2006 17:26:19 +0000