India, my India, where first human eyes awoke to heavenly light!
All Asia’s holy place of pilgrimage, great Motherland of might!
World-mother, first giver to humankind of philosophy and sacred lore,
Knowledge thou gav’st to man, God-love, works, art, religion’s opened door.
O even with all that grandeur dwarfed or turned to bitter loss and maim,
How shall we mourn who are thy children and can vaunt thy mighty name?
Before us still there floats the ideal of those splendid days of gold;
A new world in our vision wakes, Love’s India we shall rise to mould.
India, my India, who dare call thee a thing for pity’s grace today?
Mother of wisdom, worship, works, nurse of the spirit’s inward ray