Shackles Poem by Swatantryaveer Savarkar

"Oh how you pamper them all day
Polishing them over and over.
What, are these fetters or
Ornaments of gold and silver? "

These are not just for today;
Break these iron fetters of mine,
Gripping my legs in a vice
My free will they do confine.

"Should we ourselves indeed
Such care upon our fetters lavish—
Fit only to be shattered they are!
‘Tis an insane fancy you cherish."

Break they will one day,
For ever they are not,

Only add to the distress it will,
Why then let the fetters rot?

"Forever encircling the Feet of our Desire,
Are fetters that laws of ethics decree."
Who knows why it is so today
Ordained it be.

But I do indeed believe,
That we certainly can aspire
To choose betwixt desire
Or fetters for that desire!

[This is a translation by Anurupa Cinar, Savarkar's original, 'Bedi, ' is in Marathi.]