O India, ye Land of all Seasons,
What pestilence has turned Thy soil blood red?
How, say how, Thou now art th’Inferno whence
Communalism flares its ugly head?
A land of Peace and Prosperity once,
Why must Thy children endure such pain?
O India! O Queen of all Nations!
When shall Thy people behold Peace again?

My country, within Thyself split apart,
What hope hath Thou of fulfilling Thy wish
Of inculcating love in every heart,
Protecting Thyself from Lashkar and Jaish?
The same land bleeds where once the Buddha trod.
Say, have the martyrs shed their blood in vain?
O India! O finest art of God!
Shall Thy sons never behold Peace again?

Religion – yea, Thou hath them all in Thee,
Except that which can supersede the rest.
That – the Religion of Humanity
Is what Thou need’st to survive this tempest
Of hatred. Teach Thy sons, Ind, Thy true worth,
Th’ equality of Allah and Ram twain.
O India! O Paradise on Earth!
Then shall Thy offspring behold Peace again.

Let not Religion be the cause of Death.
Take Thy sons’ lives unto Thyself instead,
That they, forgetting caste, with every breath
May toil only for Thee till they drop dead.
For then shall Humanity have no dearth
Among those that have on Thy sweet soil lain.
O India! O Nation of my birth!
‘Tis then that Peace shall reign in Thee again.