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The Birth of the War-God
canto one : third rendering
A God concealed in mountain majesty, Embodied to our cloudy physical sight In dizzy summits and green-gloried slopes, Measuring the earth in an enormous ease, Immense Himaloy dwells and in the moan Of western waters and in eastern floods Plunges his hidden spurs. Such is his strength1 High-piled or thousand-crested is his look That with the scaling greatness of his peaks He seems to uplift to heaven our prostrate soil. He mounts from the green luxury of his vales, Ambitious of the skies; naked and lost The virgin chill immensity of snow Covers the breathless spirit of his heights. To snows his savage pines aspire; the birch And all the hardy brotherhood which climb Against the angry muttering of the winds, Challenge the dangerous air in which they h’ve. He is sated with the silence of the stars: Lower he dips into life’s beauty, far Below he hears the cascades, now he clothes His rugged sides the gentle breezes kiss With soft grass and the gold and silver fern. Holding upon her breast the hill-god’s feet Earth in her tresses hides his giant knees. Over lakes of mighty sleep, where fountains lapse, Dreaming, and by the noise of waterfalls, In an unspoken solitary joy He listens to her chant. The distant hills Imagined him the calf to which she lows When the wideness milks her udders and (Meru is near The heavenly unseen height; like visible hints Of his great subtle growths of peace and joy
‘ Of such a strength Page – 113 His dreaming woods arise;) gems brilliant-rayed She yields and herbs on every mountain marge. He gives his colours to the Apsara’s grace. The smooth gold of her limbs with harder hues Stolen from his mineral rocks she loves to stain. Reflections of those brilliant colourings Oft on the hangings of the cloudy heavens Like an untimely sunset’s glories lie.1 In such warm infinite riches is he dressed His fire of life from his cold heights of thought The great snows cannot slay its opulence. Though stark they chill the feet of heaven, her sons Forgive the fault amid a throng of joys As faints from our charmed sense in luminous floods The gloomy mark2 on the moon’s argent disk, They have forgot his chill severity In sweetness which escapes from him in life. For as from passion of some austere soul Delight and love have stolen to rapturous birth, From ice-born waters his delicious vales Are fed. Indulgent like the smile of God, White grandeurs overlook wild green romance. He keeps his summits for immortal steps, The life of man upon his happy slopes Roams wild and bare and free, the life of gods Prone from the unattainable summits climbs Down the rude greatness of his huge rock-park As if rejecting the glory of its veils It peeps out from the subtle gleam of air, Visible to man by waterfall and glade, And finds us in the hush of sleeping woods, And meets us with low whisperings in the night
1 The glamoured splendour of his mineral rocks Reflecting all its brilliant colourings Upon the hangings of the cloudy heavens Like an untimely sunset’s glories sleeps. 2 stain Page – 114 Of their surrounding presence unaware. Chasing the dreadful wanderers of the hill The hunter seeks for traces on his side, He, though soft-falling innocent snows weep off The cruelty of their red footprints, finds The path his prey the mighty lions go. For glittering pearls from the felled elephants Lain clotted, dropping from the hollow claws Betray1 their dangerous passage. When he sits Tired of the hunt on a slain poplar’s base And bares to winds the weariness of his brow They come fay-breezes dancing on the slopes, Scattering the peacock’s gorgeous-plumed attire, Shaking the cedars on Himaloy’s breast, With spray from Ganges’ cascades on their wings, To kiss2 the wind-blown tangles of his hair, Sprinkling their coolness on his soul. He has made The grottoed glens his chambers of desire, He has packed their dumbness with his passionate bliss; Stone witnesses of ecstasy they sleep. And wonderful luminous herbs from night’s dim banks Give light to see the joy those thrilled rocks keep When the strong forest-wanderer is lain Twined with his love, marrying with hers his sighs, Moved to desire in their stony dreams. Nor only human footsteps tread the grass Upon his slopes, nor only mortal love Finds there the lovely setting of the hills Amid the broken caverns and the trees, In the weird moonlight pouring from the clouds And the clear sunlight glancing from the pines A wandering choir, a flash of unseen forms, Go sweeping sometimes they and leave our hearts Startled with hintings of some greater life, The Kinnar passes singing in his glades. Then stirred to repeat the echoes of their voice,3
‘recall 2 They drive 3 Then stirred to keep some sweetness of their voice, Page – 115 He fills the hollows of his bamboo stems With the wind sobbing from the deep ravines And in a moaning and melodious sound Breathes from his rocky mouths, as if he meant To flute, tune-giver to wild minstrelsies. The delicate heels of the maned Kinnari Are with his frosted slabs of snow distressed. But with the large load of her breasts and hips To escape the biting pathway’s chill unease She is forbidden: she must not break the grace Of her slow1 motion’s tardy rich appeal. She too in grottoed caverns lies embraced, Forced from the shame-fast sweetness of her limbs The subtle raiment leaves her fainting hands To give her tremulous beauty to the gaze Of her eternal lover. But thick clouds Stoop hastily bowed to the rocky doors And hang chance curtains against mortal eyes, Shielding the naked goddess from our sight. The birch-leaves of his hills love-pages are. In ink of liquid metals letters strange We see make crimson signs; they lie in wait Upon the slopes, pages where passion burns, The flushed epistles of enamoured gods Where divine Circes pen heart-moving things. The Apsaras rhyme out their wayward dance, The smooth gold of their limbs by harder hues Of minerals stained, attracting seize The curious fancy in love’s straying eyes. When far down the clouds droop to his girdle waist Holding the tearful burden of their hearts, Drifting grey melancholy through the skies,2 There by the low-hung plateaus’ wideness lain The siddhas in soft shade repose, or flee Soon up chased by wild driving rain for refuge To summits splendid in the veilless sun. Earth’s mighty animal life has reached his woods.
1 dumb 2 air, Page – 116 The lion on Himaloy keeps his lair, The elephant herds there wander. Oozing trees Wounded by stormy rubbings of the tuskers’ brows Loose down their odorous tears in creamy drops, And winds upon the plateau burdened pant Weaving the air into a scented dream. The yaks are there; they lift their bushy tails To lash the breeze and scatter gleamings white: With candour casting snares for heart and eye The moonbeams lie upon the sleeping hills. Like souls divine who in a sweet excess All-clasping draw their fallen enemies Into1 the impartial refuge of their love Out of the ordered cruelties of life, He takes into his cavern bosom hunted night. Afraid of heaven’s radiant eyes, crouched up, She cowers in Nature’s great subliminal gloom, A trembling fugitive from the ardent day, Lest one embrace should change her into light. Himaloy’s peaks outpeer the circling sun. He with his upstretched brilliant hands awakes Immortal lilies in the unreached tarns, Morning has found miraculous blooms unculled By the seven sages in their starry march. Such are the grandeurs of Himaloy’s soul, Such are his divine moods; moonlit he bears, Of godward symbols the exalted source, The mystic Soma-plant upon his heights. He by the Father of sacrifice climbs crowned, Headman and dynast of earth’s soaring hills.
These were the scenes in which the Lovers met. here lonely mused the silent Soul of all, And to awake him from his boundless trance Took woman’s form the beauty of the world; Then infinite sweetness bore a living shape; She made her body perfect for his arms.
1‘To Page – 117 With equal rites he to his giant bed That mind-born child of the world-fathers bore. Mena, a goddess of devising heart, Whom for her wisdom brooding seers adored, The shapers of all living images, He sought, Mena named. They knew him for the peer Of Meru, their sublime celestial home, They gave him one, their thought’s sweet-visioned pride, Whose womb made steadfast like himself his race. Their joys of love were like themselves immense, Then in the wide felicitous lapse of time The happy tumult of her being tossed In long and puissant ecstasies bore fruit, Bearing the banner of her unchanged youth And beauty to charmed motherhood she crossed. Mainac she bore the guest of the deep seas, Upon whose peaks the serpent-women play, Race of a cavernous and monstrous world, With strange eyes gleaming past the glaucous wave, And jewelled tresses glittering through the foam. Not that his natural air who great had grown Amid the brilliant perils of the sun, From Indra tearing the great mountains’ wings With which they soared against the threatened sky, Below the slippery fields the fugitive sank, His sheltered essence bore no cruel sign, Nor felt the anguish of the heavenly scars. They disappointed of that first1 desire Mixed in a greater2 joy. It took not earth For narrow base, but forced the heavens down Into their passion-trance clasped on the couch Calm and stupendous of the snow-cold heights. Then to a nobler load her womb gave place. For Daksha’s daughter, Shiva’s wife, had left Her body lifeless in her father’s hall In that proud sacrifice and fatal, she The undivided mother infinite,
1 former 2 larger Page – 118 Indignant for his severing thought of God. Now in a trance profound of joy by her Conceived she sprang again to a livelier birth To heal the sorrow and the dumb divorce. Out of the unseen soul the splendid child Came like bright lightning from the invisible air, Welcome as Fortune to an earthly king When she is born with daring for her sire And for her mother policy sublime. Then was their festival holiday in the world, Then were the regions subtle with delight: Heaven’s shells blew sweetly through the stainless air And flowery rain came drifting down; Earth thrilled Back ravished to the rapture of the skies, And all her moving and unmoving life Felt happiness because the Bride was born. So that fair mother by this daughter shone, So her young beauty radiated its beams As might a land of lapis lazuli Torn by the thunder’s voice. As from the earth Tender and green an infant lance of life, A jewelled sprouting from the mother slab The divine child lay .on her mother’s breast. They called her Parvati, the mountain child, When love to love cried answer in the house And to the sound she turned her lovely face. A riper day the great maternal name Of Uma brought. Her father banqueted Upon her as she grew his sateless1 eyes, Who saw his life like a large lamp by her Fulfilled in light; like Heaven’s silent path By Ganges voiceful grown his soul rejoiced; It flowered like a great and shapeless thought Suddenly immortal in a perfect word. Wherever her bright laughing body rolled, Wherever faltered her sweet tumbling steps, All eyes were drawn to her like winging bees
‘ unsated Page – 119 Which sailing come upon the wanderer wind Amid the infinite sweets of honeyed spring To choose the mango-flowers’ delicious breast. Increasing to new curves of loveliness Fast grew like the moon’s arc from day to day Her childish limbs. Along the wonderful glens Among her fair companions of delight Bounding she strayed, or stooped by murmurous waves To build frail walls on Ganges’ heavenly sands, Or ran to seize the tossing ball, or pleased With puppet children her maternal mind And easily out of that earlier time All sciences and wisdoms crowding came Into her growing thoughts like swans that haste In autumn to a sacred river’s shores. They started from her soul as grow at night Born from some luminous herb its glimmering rays. Her mind, her limbs betrayed themselves divine. Thus she prepared her spirit for mighty life, Wandering at will in freedom like a deer On Nature’s summits, in enchanted glens, Absorbed in play, the Mother of the world. Then youth a charm upon her body came Adorning every limb, a heady wine Of joy intoxicating to the heart, Maddened the eyes that gazed, from every limb Shot the fine arrows of Love’s curving bow. Her forms into a perfect roundness grew And opened up sweet colour, grace and light. So might a painting grow beneath the hand Of some great master, so a lotus opens Its bosom to the splendour of the sun. On the enamoured earth at every step her feet Threw a red rose, like magic flowers they went Moving from spot to spot their petalled bloom. Her motion from the queenly swans had learned Its wanton swayings; musically it timed Page – 120 The sweet-voiced anklets’ murmuring refrain. And1 rising to that amorous support From moulded knee to ankle the supreme Divinely lessening curve so lovely was It looked as if on this alone were spent All her Creator’s cunning. Well the rest Might tax his labour to build half such grace! Yet was that miracle accomplished. Soft In roundedness, warm in their smooth sweep, her thighs Were without parallel in Nature’s work. The greatness of her hips on which life’s girdle Had found its ample rest, deserved already The lap of divine love where she alone Might hope one day embosomed by God to lie. Deep was her hollowed navel where wound in Above her raiment’s knot the tender line Of down slighter than that dark beam cast forth From the blue jewel central in her zone. Her waist was like an altar’s middle and there A triple stair of love was softly built. Her twin large breasts were pale with darkened paps They would not let the slender lotus thread Find passage, on their either side there waited Tenderer than delicatest flowers the arms Which Love must turn,2 victorious in defeat, His chains to bind down the Eternal’s neck. Her throat adorning all the pearls it wore, With sweep and undulation to the breast Outmatched the gleaming roundness of its gems. Crowning all this a marvellous face appeared In which the lotus found its human bloom In the soft lustres of the moon. Her smile Parted the rosy sweetness of her lips Like candid pearls severing soft coral lines Or a white flower across a ruddy leaf. Her speech dropped nectar from a liquid voice To which the coil’s call seemed rude and harsh
‘ Soft 2 would make, Page – 121 And sob of smitten lyres a tuneless sound. The startled glance of her long lovely eyes Stolen from her by the swift woodland deer Fluttered like a blue lotus in the wind, And the rich pencilled arching of her brows . Made vain the beauty of Love’s bow. Her hair’s Dense masses put voluptuously to shame The mane of lions and the drift of clouds. He who created all this wondrous world Weary of scattering perfection1 wide; To see all beauty in a little space Had fashioned only her. Called to her limbs All possibilities of loveliness Had hastened to their fair attractive seats, And now the artist eyes that scan all things Saw every symbol and sweet parallel Of beauty only realised in her. Then was he satisfied and loved his work. The2 sages ranging at their will the stars Saw her and knew that this indeed was she Who must become by love the beautiful half Of the Almighty’s body and be all His heart. This from earth’s seers of future things Himaloy heard and his proud hopes contemned All other than the greatest for her spouse. Yet dared he not provoke that dangerous boon Anticipating its unwakened hour, But seated in the grandeur of his hills Like a great soul curbing its giant hopes, A silent sentinel of destiny, He watched in mighty calm the wheeling years She like an offering waited for the fire, Prepared by Time for her approaching lord.
But the great Spirit of the world forsaken By that first body of the Mother of all, Not to her second birth yet come, abode
1 his marvels 2 His Page – 122 In crowded worlds ascetic, stern, And passionless and unespoused, The Master of the animal life absorbed In dreamings, wandering with his demon hordes, Desireless in the blind desire of things. At length like sculptured marble still he paused, To meditation yoked. With ashes smeared Clothed in the skin of beasts He sat a silent shape upon the hills. Below him curved Himadri’s slope; a soil With fragrance of the musk-deer odorous | Was round, and there the awful Splendour mused. Mid cedars sprinkled with the sacred dew Of Ganges, softly murmuring their chants In streams subdued the Kinnar minstrels sang. Where oil-filled slabs were clothed in resinous herbs, His grisly hosts sat down, their bodies stained With mineral unguents; bark their ill-shaped limbs Clad….1 and their tremendous hands Around their ears had wreathed the hillside’s flowers. On the white rocks compact of frozen snow His great bull voicing loud immortal pride Pawed with his hoof the argent soil to dust. Alarmed the bisons fled his gaze; he bellowed Impatient of the mountain lion’s roar. Concentrating his world-vast energies, He who gives all austerities their fruits Built daily his eternal shape of flame, In what impenetrable and deep desire ? The worship even of gods he reckons not Who on no creature leans; yet worship still To satisfy his awe the mountain paused And gave his daughter the great Soul to serve. She brought him daily offerings of flowers And holy water morn and noon and eve And swept the altar of the divine fire And plucking heaped the outspread sacred grass,
‘BIank in MS. Page – 123 Then showering1 over his feet her falling locks Drowned all her soft fatigue of gentle toils In the cool moonbeams from the Eternal’s head. Though to austerity of trance a peril The touch of beauty, he repelled her not Surrounded by all sweetness in the world He can be passionless in his large mind, Austere, unmoved, creation’s silent king. So had they met on the summits of the world. Like the still spirit and its unawakened force Near were they now, yet to each other unknown, He meditating, she in service bowed. Closing awhile her vast and shadowy wings Fate over them paused suspended on the hills.
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