15 August Poems 2017 – independence Day lyrics


15 August Poems 2017 – independence Day lyrics

Understanding the noteworthiness and significance of the deserving of say Indian Independence Day, numerous litterateurs and pioneers have thought of compelling lyrics. Some of these have been displayed here to help up your devoted sentiments. Read on and get a thought regarding the undertone of that specific period.

15 August 2017 wallpapers

15 August Poems 2017

“Not where the musk of joy blows,

Not where dimness and fears never tread;

Not in the homes of ceaseless grins,

Nor in the paradise of a place that is known for flourishing

Would I be conceived

On the off chance that I should put on mortal attire again… “

– – – –

“Is there should you require that my hands withhold,

Rich endowments of attire or grain or gold?

Lo ! I have flung toward the East and the West

Precious fortunes torn from my bosom,

Furthermore, yielded the children of my stricken womb

To the rhythms of the obligation, the sabers of fate… ..”

The Gift of India

Glad Independence Day !!!

– – – –

Our own is a place that is known for sages,

Known for grit for a long time.

None can with it contend,

Its way of life none can beat.

Whatever station or religion,

All live here as one.

With streams, sweet wellsprings,

it’s a place where there is high mountains.

Its green woods are beautiful,

Furthermore, are wellspring of success.

How about we for it buckle down,

For its security, be alert.

– – – –

On this Independence Day

we recollect the years past.

We respect this very day

for our banner, old grandness, has last.

On this Independence Day

two centuries prior, we

pronounced our autonomy

for equity and freedom.

Give us a chance to celebrate with satisfaction and genuineness

Cheerful Independence Day!!!

– – – –

“Where the brain is without fear

what’s more, the head is held high;

Where learning is free;

Where the world has not been

separated into pieces by

limit residential dividers;

Where words turn out from

the profundity of truth;

Where resolute endeavoring extends

its arms towards flawlessness;

Where the unmistakable stream of reason

has not lost its way into the grim

forsake sand of dead propensity;

Where the brain is lead forward by thee

into continually augmenting idea and activity

Into that paradise of opportunity, my Father,

give my nation a chance to wakeful.”

– – – –

My rest got aggravated, thrice that day;

I couldn’t rest tho’ an occasion;

My psyche was loaded with musings misty;

I got up in the morn, significantly prior;

‘Twas India’s Independence Day!

Thunder, lightning filled the night’s Sky;

The day much cloudy flew;

The Rain was only a sprinkle that day;

Wetted the ground of mud and mud;

‘Twas fifteenth of August, a blustery day.

The pea-winged creatures wailed and moaned that night;

The Rain made them shudder with dread;

In spite of the fact that ten, it looked like six in the morn;

The Sun behind the mists had gone;

The Sky ground-glass remained that day.

The cracked tap-waters that fell,

Raised wavelets, ploppy-conditioned and swell;

Rain-drops on links looked like pearls;

Dropped, framed once more, alluring souls;

It looked it would rain long that day.

Rain-drops hanging underneath fir-twigs;

Sparkled in the rare light like figs;

The entire tree was aglow, alit;

A wonderful thing, don’t miss it!

The Sky resembled a banished white board!

A fragile, darker cleaned, hard human,

With sack on head, bowed back, he ran!

The Indian was anguishing!

Tho’ individuals continue sermonizing!

Fifty years after Independence!

What great was accomplished for the normal man?

– – – –

“Is there should you require that my hands withhold,

Rich blessings of garment or grain or gold?

Lo ! I have flung toward the East and the West

Invaluable fortunes torn from my bosom,

Also, yielded the children of my stricken womb

To the rhythms of the obligation, the sabers of fate… ..”

The Gift of India

– – – –

Superior to Heaven or Arcadia

I cherish thee, O my India!

What’s more, thy adore I should give

To each sibling country that lives.

God made the Earth;

Man made binding nations

What’s more, their favor solidified limits.

In any case, with unfound unlimited love

I see the borderland of my India

Venturing into the World.

Hail, mother of religions, lotus, grand magnificence,

what’s more, sages!

Thy wide entryways are open,

Respecting God’s actual children through all ages.

Where Ganges, woods, Himalayan hollows, and

men dream God –

I am sacrosanct; my body touched that turf

– – – –

Bande Mataram

“Mother, I bow to thee!

Rich with thy rushing streams,

Brilliant with thy plantation glimmers,

Cool with thy winds of enjoyment,

Dull fields waving, Mother of might,

Mother free…….”

– – – –

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