On a radiant day
The ashram of my country
Will be enveloped in clouds of fragrant incense.
O guru! Thousands and thousands of people
Will be bowing at your feet.
With all of them
Bless me with fearlessness.
Lead me to the path of truth.
Fill this mortal vessel
With the panchamrit
Of viveka, vairagya, nivritti, sanyam and sankalpa.
In that yajna
Grant me absolution.
Far away . . .
In these nations
Which are symbols of sovereignty
Amidst affluence
There is absence of feeling.
Skyscrapers, computers,
Factories exhaling thick smoke —
Men have become robots here.
Hearts and minds
Are torn apart by the limits of individuality
Which prevents union.
Toddlers in uniform chatter about bombs.
Teenagers are confused.
Worldly pleasures have crippled their souls.
The trembling old men
Are witnesses of history.
They have seen my country writhing
In the pain of subjugation.
We are passing through the era of tablets.
Mothers abstain from lullabies,
Fathers refrain from fairy tales,
Children resort to sleeping pills.
In this nation of science
I will perform jnana yajna
And sacrifice to God
The masks of maturity on the faces of children,
Their immature samskaras
And the false egos of the elders.
Automated man will cease to exist with the resounding
vibrations of my Om.
I will acquaint them with the birth of love
And the demise of darkness.
Extend the horizon of my resolute wisdom
Beyond limits.
Let my arms spread to infinity
Like the vast sky
Where the rising sun is uneclipsed.
Before medicines for every disease
Push them towards the point of no return
I will draw them back.
My yogic culture
Will show the path to a new life.
My Vedanta
Will end their sufferings
And my morning song of benediction
Will usher in propitious days.