Ganga, Gangotri, Bhagirathi,
What shall I call thee?
Sweet mother of the Snow Mountains
Rushing through rock, reeds forests and plains,
Imperturbable, sacrosanct, sanctified,
Gathering the beliefs of Bharatvarsha,
Bringing together millions at kumbh
To taste the nectar of moksha
Shall I call thee unswerving compassion,
Heavenly descent, long endurance,
Flawless beauty, or the celestial Milky Way?
If ever I was to stand on ceremony
To talk about the certitude of belief
I will call thee the staying power of mankind.