Текст и перевод песни Hemanta Mukherjee - Vande Mataram (From "Anand Math")

Vande Mataram (From "Anand Math")

Vande maataram.
Vande maataram.
Maataram.
Sujalaam sufalaam malayaj sheetalaam sasyashyaamalaam maataram vande.
Shubhrajyotsna pulakit yaaminiim phulla kusumita drumadal shobhiniim suhaasinim sumadhura bhaashhinim sukhadaam varadaam maataram.
Vande maataram sapta koti kantha kalakala ninaada karaale nisapta koti bhujaidhruta kharakarvaale sapta koti kantha kalakala ninaada karaale nisapta koti bhujaidhruta kharakarvaale ka bola ka noma eith bole bahubal dhaariniin namaami taariniim ripudalavaariniin maataram vande maataram ...
Tumi vidyaa tumi dharma, tumi hridi tumi marma tvan hi praanaah shariire baahute tumi maa shakti, hridaye tumi maa bhakti, tomaarai pratimaa gadi mandire mandire vande maataram.
Tvan hi durgaa dashapraharanadhaarinii kamalaa kamaladala vihaarinii vaanii vidyaadaayinii, namaami tvaam namaami kamalaan amalaan atulaam sujalaan sufalaan maataram vande maataram.
Shyaamalaan saralaan susmitaan bhuushhitaam dharaniin bharaniin maataram vande maataram...

Vande Mataram (From "Anand Math")

I bow to thee, Mother.
I bow to thee, mother.
Mother.
I bow to thee, whose streams are constantly bubbling, whose forests laugh, whose fields are spread out with plenty, whose groves are cool, whose mountains with their snowy peaks are radiant, whose fresh breezes flow like streams of nectar.
Salutations to thee whose nights are fragrant with the fragrance of flowers, whose moonbeams are pure and whose dawn is a delight to behold, whose speech is sweet, whose voice is music, whose grace has dazzled the gaze of the gods.
I bow to thee, who art the power of the Seven Seas of Bengal, who art the defender of the low and the oppressed, whose sword is the terror of thy foes and whose name is echoed by millions of throats.
Thou art knowledge, thou art righteousness, thou art in the depths of our hearts. Thou hast put thy strength into our bodies, thou hast given us our intellect, thou hast bestowed upon us our culture. In every temple our hearts worship thee, in every home thy picture is enshrined.
Thou art Durga, wielding ten weapons in thy hands, thou art Lakshmi, dwelling in the lotus, Thou art Saraswati, the giver of knowledge. We bow to thee, we bow to thee, whose lotus-eyes are bright, whose smile is pure, whose streams are full and whose forests are green.
I bow to thee, Mother, who art ever verdant, ever beautiful, ever smiling, who art our sustainer, our protectress, our mother.