Cow, Mother Cow, Holy Cow!
Thou spirit of Bharat Mata,
That rescue from utter darkness,
And ushers the new creation
On this Holy land of the earth,
Which seem a divine land,
Conceived for Holy souls,
(For God blessed His creation,
And thrilled to see it blooming.)
But pained at the worst sinning,
When the Holy Land was reddened;
And hence all the woes and sorrows!
Ill – fated nation! from each drop shed,
The bliss and joy perhaps forever fled.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem