________________
KARMAYOGIN..
ANANDAMATH.
of mout; no longer the skilful fight
ur, the heric figure of the man who CHAPTER 1X
had bwheelel the English captain Mobenda hul deseo from with the sweep of a sword; no longthe cart, wrested a min from one ar hul he that aspect with which
the par wad made ready to even now he hul proudly rebuked join in the fight. But at this Mohonra. It walk as if the night of moment it came home cleuly to that beuty of plain and forest, hi that these then went robber river and microns stream, all the and the plunder of the treasure the moonlit pacelul earth, hal stirred object of their attack on the sol. his heart with a great gladness : it diny. In obedience to this ide way is if Ocean were laughing in be stol away from the scene of the
the ownbeams. Bhavnanda befight for to help the robbers meant ame siniling, clothont, courteous to be a partner in their ill-duing. of prech. He grew very eager to Then he thung the sword away and talk and male many efforts to open was slowly leaving the place when a conversation, but Mohendra would Bhavanaudat came and storier not speak. Then Bhavananda, hav. him. Muhendra said to him, ing 1. other source, began to "Tell me, who are you?"
sing to himselt. Bhavati replied, What need
"Mother, I bow to thee! have you to know that?"
Rich with thy hurrying streams, "I have a tree" silid Muhenr. Bright with thy orchart gleams, "You have done the to-day it very
Cool with thy winds of delight, great service.
Dark fields waving, Mother "I hurdly thought you realized
of might, it." said Bhavatumu," you had it Mother free! weapon in your hand and yet you The song astonished Mohendra mtood upart. A landholder are you and and he could understand nothing of that's #han good at being the it. Who might be this richly death of inilk and ghee, but when watered, richly fruited Mother, work has to be dones, in ape."
cool with delightful windy and Before Bhavananda hall well dark with the harvests! What finished his tirade, MohondranMother?" hy nyked.
wered with contempt and clisgust, Bhnvnnandi without any answer "But this is buil work, -a robbery !" continued his song.
** Robbery or not," retorted "Glory of moonlight Ireams Bhavananda "we have done you Over thy beaches and lonily Horne little service and are willing
streins; to do you n little more."
Clad in thy blossoming trees "You have done me sumo He?.
Mother, giver of ense, vice, I own," said Mohendra " but Laughing low and sweet: what new service can you do mo! Mother, I kiss thy feet. And at a dacoit's hins I am better Spoker sweet and low : unhelped than helped."
Mother, to thoo I bow. " Whether you rccept our profter Mohen tri said. "That is the er service or not," said Bhavananda country, it is not the Mother."
deptus on your own choice. If you Bhavananda replied, "We roog. do choose to tako it, come with the nize no other Mother. Mother and I will bring you where you can
Motherland is inore than henven moet your wife and child."
itself.' We wily the motherland in Mohendra turned and stool still. our mother. We have neither "What is that?" he cried.
mother nor fither nor brother nor Bhavananda walked on without frien, wife tor son nor house por Any reply, and Mohendra had no homo. We have her alone, the choice but to walk on with hin, richly-wateront, richly-fruited, coo wondering in his heart what new
with delightful winds, rich with kind of rubbers were these.
harvests-" CHAPTER X
Thon Mohendra understood and Silontly in the moonlit night sid, "Sing it again." Bhavananda the two crossul the open country. Bang once more. Muhendra was silent, sorrowful, full
Mother, I bow to theu !
Rich with thy hurrying streams, of prito, Ent also a little curious. Bright with thy orchard glerine,
Suddenly Bhavananda's wholo Cool with thy winds of delight, aspéct ubagod. No longer was he Dark Hells waving, Mother of tho-ncetie serious of aspect, cal
might
Mother frec. Glory of a wonlight drunuss Over thy beaches and lordly
strerins; Chiul in thy blossoming trees, Mothor, giver of case, Langhing low and sweet! Mother, I kins thy feet, Sprenker sweet and low! Mother, to thee I bow... Who hath silid thou art Work
in thy Innde, When the words tuh out in
Seventy million hands And seventy million voice's mur Thy dreadful mame frone xbore
tu) shore? With many strengths who art
mighty and stored, To there I call, Mother ant
Lal! • Thou who svest, arise and save! To her I cry whu cler her
foemen Irave Back from plain and sea And shook bersell trec. Thou art wisdom, thou art law, Thou our heart, our soul,
breath, Thou the love divine, the ana In our heart that onnettes
denth. Thine the strength that ner'
the arm, Thine the bestuty, thine the
charm. Every innge made divine In our temples is but thine. 'Thou art Durga, Lidly and
Queen, With her hands that strike
and her swords of her Thou art lakshuni lotus the And the Muse a hundre:wl-
tel. Pure and perfect without pr. Mother, lend thine car. Rich with thy hurrying streams Bright with thy orchard gleine Turk of hue, O candid liir In thy soul, with jewelled hair And thy glorious smile divine, Loveliest of all wrthly lands, Showering wealth from well
stored hands! Mother, another mine! Mother sweet, I bow to thee Mother great and free!
Trenulitor'x nuite. It is difficult. to translate the Naional Anthem of Bengal into verre in another language owing to its unique union of sweetness, simple directners and high poetic force. All ritompts in this direction have beon failures. In order, therefore, to bring the render unacquninted with Bengali nearer to the exact force of the ori. ginal, I give the translativa in prese line by iné.
