Varanasi

God watches from a clean and

Well-lit heaven over India.

Daughters, Sons of Ganges

Drink the waters of their Mother,

Clot her shores with blackened feet,

With ash of former generations.

Now, a man is washing

Garments at the River:

Beating clean a rumpled cloth

Against a stone waxed trim and

Holy by the waters of his Mother.

Shout, sing, beloved country,

For the men, the wars within you:

Cry for brothers (mirrored brothers)

Raising fists along your shores.

Cry for children upon children

Poured into their Mother's store.

Lips Cheeks Knees Foreheads meet

Earth at the Ganges, and

God watches from a clean and

Well-lit heaven over India.

Now, a man is washing

Garments at the River:

Sing, Shout beloved country:

Sab Thiik Nahi hai.

Beating clean a rumpled cloth

Against a stone waxed trim and

Holy by the waters

Of his Mother.

On another Holy morning

Men of ash rise from the River

To beat clean upon the rocks

Not cloth, but God:

And find that they,

Not cloth, Not God,

Are clean.