Up above, even the Lord of death
Must be feeling lucky enough--
Soaring on cloud nine
To see before his glaring eyes
The philanthropic soul
Illuminating the celestial beyond
Like a bright star
Dancing on the hazy horizon
Hung on the dome of darkness...
Down, tears of the lovers:
They are falling, trailing and flowing
Flooding the dirty well
Of India's polluted politics
Spate in the Ganges must wash away
Dumped garbage of corruption
From the bosom of the country...
Let's hope another lotus blooms
Out of the distinguished ashes of Atal's.
Pray, his extinguished fires go aflame
Burning out the eerie gloom
Of the country, engulfed,
Lighting the right path of virtues,
Love, peace, humanity and social harmony...