Gifts Endowed by Mother India to the World:
As mentioned in Sarojini Naidu's poem, the rich gifts that Mother India gave the world are the raiment, grain and gold. This refers to all the resources from agricultural productions to priceless metals which the foreign colonisers took to their country while they were ruling India. She also mentions her soldier sons whom she had sent to foreign lands to fight for others in the world wars.
"Priceless treasures torn from my breast,
And yielded the sons of my stricken womb.”
Mother India's Lamenting at the Death of Her Soldier Sons:
Mother India is grieved at the death of her soldier sons in the war in foreign countries. She laments the death of Indian soldiers who gave up their lives wholeheartedly to honour their country's dignity. She speaks about the brutal manner in which the soldiers have died. She expresses her grief for her dead sons through a number of similes following each other in quick succession. Her worthy sons are now buried in their graves in foreign lands like pearls in their shell. Some of them are lying dead in distant Persia, as if they have been sent to sleep by the sweet rhythmic music of her murmuring rivers. There are others whose dead bodies are scattered on the sands of Egypt, as if they were empty shells. Their brave hands have been broken and their faces are deathly pale. There are still others who lie scattered on the blood-stained meadows of France and Flanders. They lie there like flowers that have been plucked and scattered all over by the cruel hands of Destiny.
"Gathered like pearls in their alien graves
Silent they sleep by the Persian waves,
Scattered like shells on Egyptian sands,
They lie with pale brows and brave, broken hands,
They are strewn like blossoms mown down by chance
On the blood - brown meadows of Flanders and France.”
She loves her offspring so much as every mother does and that is why she is grieved now at their ill fate. She asks:
"Can ye measure the grief of the tears I weep
Or compass the woe of the watch I keep?
Or the pride that thrills thro' my hearts' despair
And the hope that comforts the anguish of prayer!”
The mother's sorrows and sufferings are unfathomable. But she is not only sad, but also proud and hopeful for her sons. We cannot measure the pride that thrills through her heart, in spite of her despair. The poet suggests that the speaker, despite her sadness and deep-rooted anguish, is proud of her sons who have fought bravely and brought victory.
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