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The soil of this country is sandalwood. Every village is a land of penance. Every child is a statue of the nation. Every child is a child of Rām. Every child is a child of Rām. This body is a temple, every person is beneficent; where the lion roars and the cow grazes, where the mother is beloved. Where the dawn sounds the conch and the evening sings a lullaby, every girl is an image of the Goddess, every child is Rām, every child is Rām. Where its soldiers on the battlefield sing the Gītā, where in the fields, bending low, Sītā plays. Where the ideal of life is the flow of Parameśvara, every girl is an image, every child is Rām. Every child is Rām. From here, the changing seasons and labor are auspicious. It sings the tale of sacrifice and penance, it is the voice of the poet. Where knowledge is a flowing Gaṅgā, pure and beautiful. Every boy is an image, every child is Rām, every child is Rām. Sandalwood is this country's soil, every village is a land of penance. Every child is an image, every child is Rām, every child is Rām. Victory to the teachings of the great Guru. O mind, bloom, bloom again in the world, how can you not endure? O mind, bloom, bloom again in the world. Thank you for watching. What is this separation, my brother? This is the flight of our women, my hero. O mind, bloom, bloom again in the world, how can you not endure? O mind, bloom, bloom again in the world. Brother, take up the wing, brother, aim the arrow. O mind, bloom, bloom again in the world. How can you not endure? O mind, bloom, bloom again in the world. Thank you for watching. Thank you for watching!