Sunday, October 7, 2007

Brochure LAW ANIMATED WORLD

LAW ANIMATED WORLD
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FOR THE FALLEN: Poem by Laurence Binyon in last cover page LAW 30-09-07



FOR THE FALLEN



With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.



Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.



They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.



They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
WE WILL REMEMBER THEM.



They mingle not with laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.



But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;



As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.
[Robert Laurence Binyon (1869-1943), famous English poet, dramatist and art scholar;
born in Lancaster to a clergyman; penned the above ‘one of the most moving tributes
to the war dead’ on the Pentire Cliffs in Cornwall in September 1914; known as Ode of Remembrance it is invariably recited at all Remembrance Day ceremonies in Britain and elsewhere to this day; although too old to enlist, he went to the Western Front as a medical orderly in the Red Cross and the poem - The Healers, bears that stamp.]

THE HEALERS
In a vision of the night I saw them,
In the battles of the night.
'Mid the roar and the reeling shadows of blood
They were moving like light,
Light of the reason, guarded Tense within the will,
As a lantern under a tossing of boughs Burns steady and still.
With scrutiny calm, and with fingers Patient as swift
They bind up the hurts and the pain-writhen Bodies uplift,
Untired and defenceless; around them With shrieks in its breath
Bursts stark from the terrible horizon Impersonal death;
But they take not their courage from anger That blinds the hot being;
hey take not their pity from weakness; Tender, yet seeing;
Feeling, yet nerved to the uttermost; Keen, like steel;
Yet the wounds of the mind they are stricken with, Who shall heal?
They endure to have eyes of the watcher In hell, and not swerve
For an hour from the faith that they follow, The light that they serve.
Man true to man, to his kindness That overflows all,
To his spirit erect in the thunder When all his forts fall, —
This light, in the tiger-mad welter,
They serve and they save.
What song shall be worthy to sing of them —
Braver than the brave?
* * * * *

EditLaw30-09-07: We certainly remember them!



WE CERTAINLY REMEMBER THEM!







We Indians are used to celebrate more the birth anniversaries of our gods and saints, heroes and heroines than death anniversaries. That is because we don’t like to think that they are really dead and gone or even that they have aged. In the poet’s immortal words, “They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old.” There are certain exceptions like the martyrdom day of Bhagat Singh and his comrades (23 March) which is celebrated with more zeal and dedication. But as of now we remember him on the occasion of his birth centenary (28 September). He and his comrades, in and through their deaths, lived and still live along in the hearts of countless millions of our country. Durga Devi, more popular as Durga Bhabhi, was of the same age and spirits as Bhagat Singh and was lucky to have martyr Bhagawati Charan Vohra as her husband who encouraged her in every way to aid and act in the revolutionary movement to overthrow the imperialist rule. As ‘chums’ she and Bhagat used to celebrate their birthday in common and she rendered utmost service by safely escorting him, amidst grave dangers, from Lahore to Calcutta. She also sheltered him in Delhi before he presented himself to be caught at the Central Legislative Assembly after throwing bombs “to make the deaf hear.” Later she lost her husband in their efforts to rescue Bhagat Singh and his comrades, but bore with fortitude that bereavement. Thereafter till her natural death on 15 October 1999 at Ghaziabad, she strove actively to achieve the ideals of her husband and Bhagat Singh and was ceaselessly engaged in activities for socialism and public education. On this their ‘common birth centenary’ we pay our glowing tributes to both these ever-green icons as also to their friends-philosophers-and-guides – Bhagwati Charan, Azad, et al with firm resolve never to forget their ideals and aspirations §§§

FOR THE FALLEN: last cover page LAW 30-09-2007

FOR THE FALLEN
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,England mourns for her dead across the sea.Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of spirit,Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royalSings sorrow up into immortal spheres.There is music in the midst of desolationAnd a glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.At the going down of the sun and in the morningWE WILL REMEMBER THEM.
They mingle not with laughing comrades again;They sit no more at familiar tables of home;They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;They sleep beyond England's foam.
But where our desires are and our hopes profound,Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,To the innermost heart of their own land they are knownAs the stars are known to the Night;
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,To the end, to the end, they remain.
[Robert Laurence Binyon (1869-1943), famous English poet, dramatist and art scholar; born in Lancaster to a clergyman; penned the above ‘one of the most moving tributes to the war dead’ on the Pentire Cliffs in Cornwall in September 1914; known as Ode of Remembrance it is invariably recited at all Remembrance Day ceremonies in Britain and elsewhere to this day; although too old to enlist, he went to the Western Front as a medical orderly in the Red Cross and the poem - The Healers, bears that stamp.]





THE HEALERS
In a vision of the night I saw them, In the battles of the night. 'Mid the roar and the reeling shadows of blood They were moving like light,
Light of the reason, guarded Tense within the will, As a lantern under a tossing of boughs Burns steady and still.
With scrutiny calm, and with fingers Patient as swift They bind up the hurts and the pain-writhen Bodies uplift,
Untired and defenceless; around them With shrieks in its breath Bursts stark from the terrible horizon Impersonal death;
But they take not their courage from anger That blinds the hot being; They take not their pity from weakness; Tender, yet seeing;
Feeling, yet nerved to the uttermost; Keen, like steel; Yet the wounds of the mind they are stricken with, Who shall heal?
They endure to have eyes of the watcher In hell, and not swerve For an hour from the faith that they follow, The light that they serve.
Man true to man, to his kindness That overflows all, To his spirit erect in the thunder When all his forts fall, —
This light, in the tiger-mad welter, They serve and they save. What song shall be worthy to sing of them —Braver than the brave?
* * * * *

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