The Mighty Ganga Maiya

She flows from north towards east or
She flows from south towards north
You can sit and ponder on her banks
The mighty river, Ganga Maiya!

She is dirty, her waters impure,
With burnt bodies and drowned dead,
The thoughts of the so called wise, thus,
When ignorance is certainly bliss.

She carries the burden of the sins of the world,
Purifies the impure to release from rebirth,
The saviour of those who immerse in her waters,
The mighty river, Ganga Maiya!

People come from far and wide
Take the plunge or take the boat
Capture her in lens or imprison her in pots
Little realizing, she cannot be contained.

She carries with her, many a river
Who pay their tribute on her meandering course;
A course that divides as she vanishes,
The mighty river, Ganga Maiya!

Where did she go? How did she vanish?
Where are the waters? Where are the dead?
What is impure? What is clean?
Perhaps the fish and the turtles can tell.

She is a mother, she gives with love
Be it Hoogly, be it Padma,
She sacrifices herself, for her children
The mighty river, Ganga Maiya!