"Is there ought you need that my hands withhold,
Rich gifts of raiment or grain or gold?
Lo ! I have flung to the East and the West
Priceless treasures torn from my breast,
And yielded the sons of my stricken womb
To the drum-beats of the duty, the sabers of doom….."
Lo! I have flung to the East and the West Priceless treasures torn from my breast, And yielded the sons of my stricken womb To the drum-beats of the duty, the sabers of doom Great India who has mothered so many Great and worthy sons, Who contributed a lot to culture and heritage. 10
India is great Motherland who keeps lovable treasures of all things, culture and life. This needs hands to withhold to realize her affection. Very interesting poem and this is ever green. Excellent poem this is of the time from the great poetess of India.10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lo! I have flung to the East and the West Priceless treasures torn from my breast, And yielded the sons of my stricken womb To the drum-beats of the duty, the sabers of doom….. very nice poem. tony