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Biswaranjan Satpathy



Biswaranjan Satpathy


You Give me your Blood I give me your Freedom

You Give me your Blood I give me your Freedom

2 mins 161 2 mins 161

Of what good is the blood that can't come to a boil? Of what good is the blood that can't protect its soil?

Of what good is the blood that's not alive with ardor? The blood that flows not free it's not blood, it's water!

The day blood got appreciated when people realized its worth was in Burma when Subhash asked them to sacrifice for their earth.

He said, "For your freedom, you'll have to sacrifice. You've lived enough in the world; now death is freedom's price.

In the feet of freedom, the guard l and that is spread, Listen! It will be woven with your severed heads.

The battle for independence isn’t won on money, is sure. Commitment to supreme sacrifices on bare necks endured.

The history of freedom struggle, in black ink isn't written or read.

For its sake, brave hearts have let loose floods of blood red."

In so saying the speaker’s eyes had become blood shot, face had acquired blood's hue blood-red body glowed, so hot.

He raised his hands, declared, “Give me your blood, come. And in fair exchange, I will give you freedom." There was a tumult in the crowd, hearts couldn't contain the joy.

Rallying cries traveled miles, reaching the hoi polloi.

"We are, we are ready to bleed “Only these words could be heard.

To go into the battlefield, men stood ready, undeterred.

Subhash dared, "Not like this! For they say talk is cheap.

Seal your commitment now by signing on this sheet.

The person signing up here has to dedicate his all -possessions, relations, body, soul, whole life to this clarion call.

But this is no ordinary letter; it’s a declaration of independence.

Drop some virile blood of your body on it, I give you the chance.

Step forward and be counted if Indian blood's in your veins.

Step forward and be counted if you call yourself Indians.

Step forward and be counted by signing here in blood. I offer a shroud, come, to go with a smile into the mud."

Everyone shouted back, here we come, here we come. In the cause of the motherland, we’ll give our blood some.

The youth advanced with courage, and they kept climbing the stairs.

With blades, knives, and steel, they’d drop some blood of theirs.

Then in the ink of that blood, they’d dip the nibs of their pen

and make their signatures on the declaration of independence.

Saw an Indian faith all new, when with their blood, the braves wrote India's history anew


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