Vande Matharam
Not to thy knowledge of information cognizant
That credentialed people value intelligence
Not to thy nucleus of power-plant
Thy children rocket on par excellence
Not to thy progressing industries eminent
Concerned much to mint global wealthiness
Not to thy soulful populous effort
Endemically to eradicate illness
Not to thy efficacy of art, architect
Gleaming in society's ethnic fields
O' Mother India, our obeisance
But to thy valorous martyred quest
Thy sons fought for independence
That they manured a soil-fest
Themselves strewn blood-shed to fertilize
Their hopes sown to result
In reaping peace in abundance
A reformation of a fertile harvest
A progression essential in economic race
Vande Matharam! Vande Matharam!
Also to thy souls who deeply support
In times to save thy populace
Defending thy bravery on peril and threat
This day even in wars and clashes
With brimming cheers of grateful heart
Vande Matharam! Vande Matharam!
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Related quotes
Radio Memories
Vande Matharam invoking a day of spirit
Mother tunes her frequency to a devotional band
Saroj Narayanaswami somewhere radioed
I'm broadcasted by her voice to school alerted
Mayilvahanan with birthday wishes bids me bye
Mid-day melodies refine mom to a good cuisine
Fine-tuned are gloaming lessons by 'Vanoli' notation
Farmers converse with grand-pa on paddy-fields
Quite vivid an old Bharati recollecting elixir to slake heavenly
Ere retirement'brush with Binaca'commands Amin Sayani
Saigal sings 'soja Rajakumari' to mom sky-high
Lo, mom has slept all for good
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Vande Mataram
India, my native-place, is a land of spirituality,
A symbol of great culture and civilization,
Where a host of people visit to quench their thirst of knowledge,
And to learn a lesson of love, truth, non-violence, peace and purity,
I’m proud of being an Indian, a child of Mother-India:
Who shelters all—friend or enemy, and,
Always a source of devotion and inspiration,
And I'm proud to be an Indian,
Now my heart and mind shout 'Vande Mataram'.
poem by Dr. P. K. Verma
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To Thy Excellency Bharathi
Versified 'VandheMatharam' in refrains
Lulled the blazing hearts of Indians
Serfdom turned Freedom this day reigns
Thy Excellency Bharathi
Who else, be of great strains
Than Thy Excellency Bharathi
Kindled the fond hopes of Liberty
Liberated the captives from nonnative notoriety
Cantillated tamil doused in Bharath-Integrity
Thy Excellency Bharathi
Thee alone of much tactical frivolity
Praiseful hosannas Bharathi
Incapable we in bomb-blasting society
Peaceless life by diced polity
Looking forward to 'Poet of Piety'
Thy Excellency Bharathi
Retort, who else can amend disunity
Than Thy Excellency Bharathi
Reappear, persona mustached, turbaned
Bravery aglow in eyes well challenged
'Vandhe Matharam' flamingly well versed
Thy Excellency Bharathi
Subramanya, Soul blest Thou indeed needed
Reborn Thy Excellency Bharathi
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Republic Day Anniversary Celebration In India,2012
IRT PMC, PMCH, RTS & SoN, Perundurai
The day, we know this land is ours, our own;
The day we say all Indians are brethren;
The day we love our motherland, more than our lives;
That day, our freedom, we have truly won!
Let Indians all have just one heart;
Let’s love the soil in which we are born;
Let’s live in unity as one;
Let integrity glow brighter than sun!
Let’s remember the lives all lost,
For getting freedom at blood-cost;
Let’s preserve what with toil, they got;
Let pride not leave our land to rot!
On this great day, let’s all rejoin;
Let’s do our duty selflessly;
Let’s thank and pray to Almighty,
To guide us to heaven, safely.
dedicated by Dean Dr. A.Celestine Raj Manohar MD
‘Jai Hind! Jai Bharat! Vande Mataram!
poem by John Celes
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Fra Vesterhavets Lande
Fra Vesterhavets Lande
Hen over dybe Vande
Du kom til Danmarks Strande,
Hvor Guld paa Marken groer;
Her Du i Bøgesalen
Tidt hørte Nattergalen
Og saae, ved Taget Svalen,
Symbol paa Troskab, boer.
Paa Svalens Ryg der sidder
Gud Amor, klædt som Ridder.
Forstaaer Du Fugleqvidder?
Jeg næstendeels det troer!
En Hilsen! Hvad? Og hvor?
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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As God Gave Freely
As God gave freely unto me
gifts of compassion love patience time
so I also give freely unto you
in the fertile landscapes of harvest mind
have I not prepared fields broken ground
have I not sown in full measure love seed
will you now take ownership of these fields?
will you water fertilize tender growth shoots?
will you weed harvest all life love gift fields?
for 18 months more have I alone toiled prepared?
are not these fields without cost to you purchased?
did I not give sacred work all my time livelihood?
will you choose to help harvest these compassion seeds?
will you let peace love flower with purity in your minds?
will you turn swords into plough shears till peace fields?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Basnæs
Der staaer en nybygt Gaard af gammel Art
Med røde Taarne tæt ved Beltets Vande.
I kjære Minder lyser den saa klart
Og siger: „Her er godt ved Danmarks Strande".
Der blev jeg hjemme mangen Sommerdag
Og naar ved Juul de hvide Bier sværmed;
Der milde Øine, ærligt Hjertelag
Den hyggelige, kjære Arne skjærmed.
Og der — det veed jeg — ved dens Arnes Fyr
Med Hjertet hører man mit Eventyr.
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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Venskabs-Pagten
Nu flyve vi bort fra den danske Strand,
Heelt ud om fremmede Lande,
Og saa er' vi nede i Grækenland
Ved de deilige kornblaae Vande.
Citrontræet staaer med sin guulgule Frugt,
Den tynger mod Jorden Grenen;
Der Tidslen groer, der Billeder smukt
Er hugget i Marmorstenen,
Hvor Hyrden sidder; hans Hund har sig lagt
Tæt ved ham, dens Plads vi tage
Og høre fortælle om Venskabs Pagt,
En smuk Skik fra gamle Dage.
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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Med et Bundt Cigarer
Da en Syndflods Vande
Bragte Død og Grav,
Mennesker og Lande
Sank i salten Hav;
Arken, da det endte,
Stod paa Ararat;
Duen Noah sendte
Ud i Frygtens Nat.
Bunden som til Sengen
Hver i Arken sad;
Duen kom fra Engen
Med et Olieblad.
Doctoren som Duen
Tidt man venter paa;
Træder han i Stuen,
Hjertet haabe maa;
Ingen Laurbærblade
Han i Munden har,
Vi ham ryge lade
Da en god Cigar.
Træder Du i Stuen,
Ryger, som vi bad,
Ja, da er Du Duen,
Som har Haabets Blad!
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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Shanti/Ashtangi
Vunde gurunam caranaravinde
Sandarsita svatma sukhavabodhe
Nihsreyase jangalikayamane
Sansara halahala moha santyai
Hala hala
Ahahu purusakaram sankha cakrasi
Ahahu purusakaram sankha cakrasi
Dharinam dharinam sahasra sirasam
Dharinam dharinam sahasra sirasam
Vande
Om Shanti
song performed by by Madonna from Music
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Defending This Diminishes Quick
Indifference is a global threat.
Too busy sipping is a global threat.
And finding the time to wine and dine...
And complaining about neighbors,
In gossip is a crime.
Indifference is a global threat.
Too busy sipping is a global threat.
And finding the time to wine and dine...
And complaining about neighbors,
In gossip...
Is a crime.
And people who do nothing but sit on stoops...
With a hoop all day that's hollered,
Is crude and rude.
And children overseeing this,
Think these attitudes done...
Are cool to copy too.
Romancing what they do is sick.
And defending this diminishes quick.
Especially in the doing of it...
Is considered and respected,
As nobody's business!
Indifference is a global threat.
Too busy sipping is a global threat.
And finding the time to wine and dine...
And complaining about neighbors,
In gossip...
Is a crime.
And children overseeing this,
Think these attitudes done...
Are cool to copy too.
And showing them the opposite...
Will get the rolling of eyes,
And frowning lips.
Romancing what they do is sick.
And defending this diminishes quick.
Especially in the doing of it...
Is considered and respected,
As nobody's business!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Vise af Festen paa Kenilworth
Brødre, meget langt herfra,
over salten Vande,
reiser sig Amerika
med de gyldne Strande,
det er der Fugl Phønix boer;
Guld og Sølv paa Marken groer,
og i Skovens Skygge
stegte Duer bygge!
Hvor frydeligt!
Gud! hvor det er nydeligt!
Skade, at Amerika
ligge skal saa langt herfra!
Der gaaer Solen aldrig ned,
stegt er hver Kastanie,
der er Alting Kjærlighed,
Kilderne Champagne.
Gi'er man der sit Hjerte hen,
faaer man strax to tre igjen,
og paa Mark og Enge
blomstrer der kun Penge.
Hvor frydeligt!
Gud! hvor det er nydeligt!
Skade, at Amerika
ligge skal saa langt herfra!
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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Bøgetræet
Hist staaer et Bøgetræ paa Høien ene;
Afhugget har man jo dets bedste Grene,
Sært ryster Toppen paa den stakkels Fyr;
Han vist fortæller gamle Eventyr,
Om Elskende og andet saadant noget,
Hør kun! — forstod' vi bare Sproget!
„Høi og stolt jeg Kronen bar!
Ægte jo min Stamme var!
Mine Børn, de stolte Grene,
Havde Alting paa det Rene,
Fik ei Skjænd og fik ei Huk,
Drak kun Sol og Morgen-Dug;
Alt har jeg som Moder gjort!
De maae blive noget stort!
Tænkte jeg — det kan ei feile!
Som en Skibsmast, hver skal seile
Lystigt over salten Vande,
See og sees i fjerne Lande!
Men af tretten jeg har havt,
Een blev kun et Kosteskaft!
Gjærdestave blev de tre,
Men de ni, o bittre vee!
De fik dog den værste Ende,
De blev kun til Pindebrænde!"
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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Existence Balanced
In a dusty room perfumed by cigarettes
love patiently sits penning letters to itself
reading life by starlight
the angels gather glowingly
a blue light radiates throughout the galaxy
October harvest rich and round
inspirations in abundance
age of Aquarius delivering
insightful illuminations and prophetic revelations
as Lyra shines openly upon creation
justice for the pains inflicted upon
mother earth inner Armageddons
sprouting soulful seeds new
worlds and ancient rebirths
children of the sun healing with power of the spirit
Kachina dances the elders rejoice the arrival of the arch
technological booms economic explosions
medical science achieving man's immortality
all wars being waged be forgotten
discovering secrets left to us by ancient hybrid beings
peace upon the day of purification and punishment
electricity channeling eternal thoughts through time
life breathes in a womb of love as balance gives birth to
to an ever continuing creation
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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Sonnet: Song in Memory of the Kargil-heros
O youthful soldiers of the Kargil-war!
Though some are dead, you now live in our heart;
What valor you display’d in hills afar!
By climbing mountain-sides steep with great art.
O glorious soldiers of Mother India!
Slept you eternally to make us sleep;
Shedding your blood in Himalaya;
The valley’s waters have turned blood-red, deep.
O mighty sons of sacred Indian soil
Our Mother India is proud of you all;
We cannot forget your sacrifice/ toil
By dying, you’ve preserved our frontier wall.
No more will our foes try getting across;
Your brothers too are ever-ready because.
7-25-2000
poem by John Celes
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60th Republic Day Celebrations in India
I’m proud to be Indian;
I love my motherland;
I breathe air that is free
and till the soil, my land!
I hoist the tricolor,
atop the mast so tall –
a beauty Indians all
can watch with pride and awe!
I think about the past –
the lives that had been lost;
The blood for freedom shed,
and freedom-fighters dead!
My India looks so great,
for sixty years till date;
How Gandhi changed our fate
is told by India Gate!
The freedom I enjoy
since when I was a boy,
got by sacrifice, toil,
and burning mid-night oil!
This heritage of mine
has always been so fine;
So is the warm sunshine,
surrounding clear blue brine.
Let Indians maintain peace;
Let global wars all cease;
Let mounting tensions ease;
Let cures come for disease.
Let’s make our India proud;
Let brethren all feel loved;
Let’s unite against foes
that cause our daily woes!
May God bless India
o’er years that lie ahead!
May Indian keep his head
high and work hard instead!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-26-2009
poem by John Celes
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I Shall Weep Tears For Them
when your son
or daughter
lines up to enlist
join the military
to fight in foreign
wars America’s
Muslim Wars
in target countries
I will not judge
all suffering death pain
inflicted on sovereign
soil democracy invades
when their sons daughters
are killed as wars drone on
I shall weep tears for them
when your sons daughters
are killed as foreign invaders
I shall weep tears for them
I cannot judge right
I cannot judge wrong
I cannot stomach lies
politics is guilty
of invasion crimes
against humanity
Afghanistan Iraq invasions
Pakistan incursions drone attacks
Libya sorties rebel alliances
I cry for their children
I cry for your children
blood is on so many hands
as innocence is bath drowned
in aircraft carriers of steam blood
pornography elite power rapes
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Great Three
At one time when the country was ruled by creul british
there came the Tremendous three
who were on mission to make our country free
they distributed templates
to stop their mission
the british called simon commission
they knew it was test of the best
against simon they made protest
but it proved them costly
as their leader was beaten by sticks
furious by their behaviour
it was time to teach british lesson
The officer guilty deserved the punishment
it was justice
After some days
once again the british at its creulity
for their pleasure
they were going with train of treasure
the Revolutionaries decide to do justice
they steal the train
The british pass bill
which made sure that the farmers will not get justice
it was test of best
as they protest
in the Assembly they throw bomb
the british catch the tremendous three
the punishment they get is hanged till death
but fear is stranger to them
as they happily hang themselves
and they still say
long live the revolution
vande mataram
I proud to be indian
poem by Rohan Bendre
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Today... 'Author of Peace
No more confusion the world will be at peace
all killing will stop and all the wars will cease.
So do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid
for the Author of Peace the ransom has paid.
The Lord has blessed His people by His grace
and laid down His life for the human race.
Perfect peace now replaces the guilt of sin
and the blood of Jesus whispers peace within.
(see also the additional information below in the Poet's box)
What children know (understand)
Children know laughter
They know tears
Children know peace
They know chaos
Children know acceptance
They know rejection
Children know joy
They know pain
Children know abundance
They know lack
Children know health
They know illness
Children know fulfillment
They know emptiness
Children know hope
They know dismay
Children know love
They know hatred
What they don’t know is WHY!
poem by Namie Elisha
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