O Ocean!

Take me, O Ocean! Take me to my Motherland!
My soul is in torment away from her,
So much torment, O Ocean! Did not I always see you
Lapping worshipfully at my Mother's feet?
Did not you call me to visit other Lands,To see the bounties of nature abound, said you.

My Mother's heart, so full of pain and uncertainty it was,To hear of the parting of our ways!
Then, a sacred oath you did give-to her,
Carrying me on your back,
My speedy homecoming, you promised-to her.

The way home is known, said you. Believe this your promise, did I!
More worldly-wise and able, be I
More worthy to extol her glory, be I
Upon my return. So saying, so believing, I bid farewell-to her!

My soul is in torment away from her,
So much torment, O Ocean! Duped was I-Like a parrot in a cage, Like a deer in a trap!
Doomed by this continual separation,
Besieged with darkness am I!
Gathering the Flowers of Virtue, Desiring to shower my Mother by its fragrance was I.

O, but of what use all my knowledge is, Doomed to be a mere burden it be,
When use it not for her glorification can I!
Estranged am I from Her Garden of Flowers, For the love of the
Her mango tree, pine I
For Her trailing vines, pine I
For the bud of the Her rose, pine I My soul is in torment away from her,
So much torment, O Ocean!
O, abounding with stars is the heaven above,
But love only do I-The bright Star of my Motherland!

O, abounding with magnificent palaces these lands are,
But love only do I
Ever the humble hut in my Motherland!
What care I for a promised Kingdom-without Her?

O, to be with my Mother
Ever a life exiled in her forests choose I. More deception is futile now, O Lord of the Rivers,
Let you not be spared, vow I
Suffer the same pangs, say I
Of separation from the most beloved of your rivers!
My soul is in torment away from her,
So much torment, O Ocean!

O pitiless One, how you mock me with your foaming surf!
Think you my Mother is helpless? -that you dare deceive her so!
That you dare condemn me to this longing so!
Why do you go back on your word?
So afraid of Britain be you?
-She does flaunt her mastery over you so! Quail before a fearsome Britain, do you?
But, not so my Mother, see you!
No! My Mother is not so feeble! Tell this tale to Sage Agasti she will, Fear him, who in one gulp your waters drank!
Take me, O Ocean! Take me to my Motherland!
My soul is in torment away from her, So much torment, O Ocean!