On the eve of Independence, reflective I sit,
Gazing on the summer sky, dark but starlit,
The sky that stares down on my country enchanting,
Steeped in culture and tradition, endowed with beauty entrancing.

I conjure up diverse fascinating scenes,
Of India, my  India, the land of my dreams.
her mighty Himalayas magnificent arise,
her rolling plains verdant under azure skies,

Her life-giving streams that bubble and dance,
Over pebble and boulder as they gurgle and prance,
Her forests luxuriant with creeper and vine,
Appear in their glory before these eyes of mine,

The tawny, striped tiger, the peacock imperial,
The chattering, playful monkeys, the elephants regal,
I picture them wild, protected yet free,
To roam mid rock, bush, grassland and tree.

There's vista of beaches with golden sands shining,
The pounding surf, frothy sparking and glistening,
The seas full of life in countless forms,
The miles of brave coastlines whethering many a storm.

By rivers so scared, I dream of  Ashoka,
A pillar of strength, a monarch of power,
I follow the Buddha's path of moderation,
That preaches a creed gained through prayer and meditation,

I remember with pride the Mughals sublime,
As i marvel at their monuments a gift for all time.
At the stroke of the midnight hour,
My reverie is broken by a wild clamour!

As they march in array before these privileged orbs,
The fiery Subhash with his nationalist crops,
The humble Mahatma with ideology gentle,
The vibrant Nehru with energy indefatigable,

The victors they glide past one by one,
It seems the stream of warriors will never  be done.
Often clouds cover these stars so bright,
And sometimes dark and dreary appears the long night,

But soon the fresh dawn heralds the morn,
Once again a new day is born,
From the distant mosque, the mullah raises,
A call to devotees to chant their praises,

At the temple near, the pujari will soon say,
The sacred "Om" with the faithful who pray,
The church bells joyfull carol and ring,
In reverence all His followers  sing.

From Gurudwara, imposing, tributes arise,
To the One whose value is above all price,
My India respects all who live on the earth, 
We honour the One who on you gave us birth!

Humbly, I add my plea to the Lord above,
To shower my land with His infinite love,
Give us Oh master, your Grace Divine,
that we may no longer yearn or pine,

For peace and prosperity for this country of ours,
for comfort and happiness to fill our bowers,
To each give enough according to his need,
To each give your wisdom, for this we plead,

That our granaries may be replete, with grain in plenty,
that in shelter and covering and knowledge we're wealthy,
Teach us Oh Lord like brothers to live,
Your tolerance, Your understanding, each other to give,

that my vision no more a vision may seem,
but India, my India, the land of my dreams.

−  D. A. Tressler