Celebrating 150 years of the famous song of India, composed on 7 November 1875!
An interesting article:
https://swarajyamag.com/culture/150-years-of-vande-matarams-musical-odyssey-the-melody-and-memory-of-a-nation
वन्दे मातरम्
सुजलां सुफलां मलयजशीतलाम् सस्यश्यामलां मातरम्
वन्दे मातरम् ।
शुभ्रज्योत्स्नापुलकितयामिनीं
फुल्लकुसुमितद्रुमदलशोभिनीं
सुहासिनीं सुमधुर भाषिणीं
सुखदां वरदां मातरम् ॥ १ ॥
वन्दे मातरम् ।
कोटि-कोटि-कण्ठ-कल-कल-निनाद-कराले
कोटि-कोटि-भुजैर्धृत-खरकरवाले,
अबला केन मा एत बले ।
बहुबलधारिणीं नमामि तारिणीं
रिपुदलवारिणीं मातरम् ॥ २ ॥
वन्दे मातरम् ।
तुमि विद्या, तुमि धर्म तुमि हृदि,
तुमि मर्म त्वं हि प्राणा: शरीरे बाहुते
तुमि मा शक्ति, हृदये तुमि मा भक्ति,
तोमारई प्रतिमा गडि मन्दिरे-मन्दिरे मातरम् ॥ ३ ॥
वन्दे मातरम् ।
त्वं हि दुर्गा दशप्रहरणधारिणी
कमला कमलदलविहारिणी
वाणी विद्यादायिनी, नमामि त्वाम्न
मामि कमलां अमलां अतुलां सुजलां सुफलां मातरम् ॥ ४ ॥
वन्दे मातरम् ।
श्यामलां सरलां सुस्मितां भूषितां
धरणीं भरणीं मातरम् ॥ ५ ॥
वन्दे मातरम् ॥
Vande Mataram (1909)
by Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay, translated by Aurobindo Ghose
Bengali-Sanskrit poem from the novel Anandamath (1882) written by Bankim Chandra Chatterjee. The first 2 stanzas of the original full version have the official status as the "National Song" of the Republic of India.
Here is the literal translation of all the stanzas of Vande Mataram by Aurobindo Ghose as appeared in Karmayogin, 20 November, 1909.
I bow to thee, Mother,
richly-watered, richly-fruited,
cool with the winds of the south,
dark with the crops of the harvests,
The Mother!
Her nights rejoicing in the glory of the moonlight,
her lands clothed beautifully with her trees in flowering bloom,
sweet of laughter, sweet of speech,
The Mother, giver of boons, giver of bliss!
Terrible with the clamorous shouts of seventy million throats,
and the sharpness of swords raised in twice seventy million hands,
Who sayeth to thee, Mother, that thou art weak?
Holder of multitudinous strength,
I bow to her who saves,
to her who drives from her the armies of her foes,
The Mother!
Thou art knowledge, thou art conduct,
Thou art heart, thou art soul,
For thou art the life in our body.
In the arm, thou art might, O Mother,
In the heart, O Mother, thou art love and faith,
It is thy image we raise in every temple.
For thou art Durga holding her ten weapons of war,
Kamala at play in the lotuses
And speech, the goddess, giver of all lore,
To thee I bow!
I bow to thee, goddess of wealth
pure and peerless,
richly-watered, richly-fruited,
The Mother!
I bow to thee, Mother,
Dark-hued, candid,
sweetly smiling, jewelled and adorned,
the holder of wealth, the lady of plenty,
The Mother!
Translation in VERSE form by Shri Aurobindo
