TRANSLATIONS

 

CONTENTS

 

Pre-content

 

 

Part One 

Translations from Sanskrit

 

Section ONE

The Ramayana : Pieces from the Ramayana

1. Speech of Dussaruth

2. An Aryan City

3. A Mother's Lament

4. The Wife

An Aryan City: Prose Version

The Book of the Wild Forest

The Defeat of Dhoomraksha

 

Section Two

The Mahabharata   Sabha Parva or Book of the Assembly-Hall :

Canto I: The Building of the Hall

Canto II: The Debated Sacrifice

Canto III: The Slaying of Jerasundh

Virata Parva: Fragments from Adhyaya 17

Udyoga Parva: Two Renderings of the First Adhaya

Udyoga Parva: Passages from Adhyayas 75 and 72

 

The Bhagavad Gita: The First Six Chapters

 

Appendix I: Opening of Chapter VII

Appendix II: A Later Translation of the Opening of the Gita

Vidula

 

  Section Three

Kalidasa

Vikramorvasie or The Hero and the Nymph

 

 

In the Gardens of Vidisha or Malavica and the King:

 

 

The Birth of the War-God

Stanzaic Rendering of the Opening of Canto I

Blank Verse Rendering of Canto I

Expanded Version of Canto I and Part of Canto II

 

Notes and Fragments

Skeleton Notes on the Kumarasambhavam: Canto V

The Line of Raghou: Two Renderings of the Opening

The Cloud Messenger: Fragments from a Lost Translation

 

Section Four

Bhartrihari

The Century of Life

Appendix: Prefatory Note on Bhartrihari

 

Section Five

Other Translations from Sanskrit

Opening of the Kiratarjuniya

Bhagawat: Skandha I, Adhyaya I

Bhavani (Shankaracharya)

 

 

Part Two

Translations from Bengali

 

Section One

Vaishnava Devotional Poetry

Radha's Complaint in Absence (Chundidas)

Radha's Appeal (Chundidas)

Karma: Radha's Complaint (Chundidas)

Appeal (Bidyapati)

Twenty-two Poems of Bidyapati

Selected Poems of Bidyapati

Selected Poems of Nidhou

Selected Poems of Horo Thacoor

Selected Poems of Ganodas

 

 

Section Two

Bankim Chandra Chatterjee

Hymn to the Mother: Bande Mataram

Anandamath: The First Thirteen Chapters

 

Appendix: A Later Version of Chapters I and II

 

 

Section Three

Chittaranjan Das

Songs of the Sea

 

 

Section Four

Disciples and Others

Hymn to India (Dwijendralal Roy)

Mother India (Dwijendralal Roy)

The Pilot (Atulprasad Sen)

Mahalakshmi (Anilbaran Roy)

The New Creator (Aruna)

Lakshmi (Dilip Kumar Roy)

Aspiration: The New Dawn (Dilip Kumar Roy)

Farewell Flute (Dilip Kumar Roy)

Uma (Dilip Kumar Roy)

Faithful (Dilip Kumar Roy)

Since thou hast called me (Sahana)

A Beauty infinite (Jyotirmayi)

At the day-end (Nirodbaran)

The King of kings (Nishikanto)

 

 

Part Three

Translations from Tamil

 

Andal

Andal: The Vaishnava Poetess

To the Cuckoo

I Dreamed a Dream

Ye Others

 

 

Nammalwar

Nammalwar: The Supreme Vaishnava Saint and Poet

Nammalwar's Hymn of the Golden Age

Love-Mad

 

 

Kulasekhara Alwar

Refuge

 

 

Tiruvalluvar

Opening of the Kural

 

 

Part Four

Translations from Greek

 

Two Epigrams

Opening of the Iliad

Opening of the Odyssey

Hexameters from Homer

 

 

Part Five

Translations from Latin

 

Hexameters from Virgil and Horace

Catullus to Lesbia

 

NOTE ON THE TEXTS

 

Twenty-two Poems

of Bidyapati

 

1

 

Childhood and youth each other are nearing;

Her two eyes their office yield to the hearing.

Her speech has learned sweet maiden craft

And low not as of old she laughed

Her laughter murmurs. A moon on earth

Is dawning into perfect birth.

Mirror in hand she apparels her now

And asks of her sweet girl-comrades to show

What love is and what love does

And all shamed delight that sweet love owes.

And often she sits by herself and sees

Smiling with bliss her breasts' increase,

Her own milk-breasts that, plums at first,

Now into golden oranges burst.

Day by day Love's vernal dreams

Expand her lovely blossoming limbs.

Maadhuv, I saw a marvellous flower

Of girls; childhood and youth one power,

One presence grown in one body fair.

Foolish maiden, not thus declare

The oneness of these contraries.

Rather the two were yoked, say the wise.

 

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2

 

Day by day her milk-breasts drew splendour,

Wider her hips grew, her middle more slender.

Love has enlarged her childlike gaze.

Yea, all grace of childhood and childhood's ways

Fall from their thrones and take sweet flight.

Her breasts before were plums of light,

Golden oranges next and then

As bodiless Love made bloom with pain

Of increase her body day by day,

Pomegranate seed-cities were they.

Their fair maturities now begin,

Now are they fruits-of-opulence twin.

Maadhuv, I sought thy lovely lady,

Bathing I found her in woodland shady.

Coiled on her heart but not to drape

Her thin dress clung to her lovely shape.

Blest were his eyes who had seen her thus

And his whole life made felicitous.

Over her bosom her great hair floods

With curls divine two golden gods.

True love must his be, O youth, who would play,

Her darling and joy, with this beautiful may.

 

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3

 

Now and again a sidelong look

Along her lashes its shy curve took.

Now and again her thin white dress

O'erlies like dust all her loveliness.

Now she laughs divine and clear

And her pearly teeth like stars appear,

And now to hide in her robe make shift.

For a little her startled feet run swift

But soon that bounding gait subsides

And she in maiden gravity glides.

Love's scholar she and newly set

To his first lesson and alphabet.

Where her bosom's buds are hardly seen

Now she draws fast her robe to screen,

Now careless leaves. In her limbs divine

Child and woman meet and twine.

Nor mark I yet whether older she

Of girlhood or younger of infancy.

Beautiful Krishna, youth in her

Its childhood begins, these signs declare.

 

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4

 

Childhood and youth, maiden, are me

And strife twixt their armed powers is set.

Now her ordered locks she dresses,

Now scattering loosens a storm of tresses.

Sometimes she covers her body fair,

Sometimes the golden limbs are bare

In childhood's naked innocence.

And childhood's steadfast eyes with a sense

Of girlhood a little waver now

And her bosom is stained where the flowers grow.

Her light uncertain feet now tell

The uncertain heart and variable.

Love is awake but his eyes are shut.

O Krishna, flower of lovers, put

In thy heart patience, for surely she

Shall be brought at last and given to thee.

 

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5

 

Playing she plays not, so newly shy

She may not brook the passing eye.

Looking she looks not lest surmise

Laugh from her own girl-comrades' eyes.

Hearken, O hearken, Maadhuv, to me.

Just is the case I bring to thee.

Radha today these eyes beheld;

A maid she is unparalleled.

O her face and its lovely lights!

O looks that ravish, O charm that invites!

Flower of ruby with lotus grows

In her vermeil lips that exceed the rose;

And with honey have snared her large twin eyes

Two shapes of bees that may not rise;

And her brow's arch is as tho' left slack

Love's own bow in hue were black.

Saith the envoy girl whose words I teach

"The bloom of her limbs surpasseth speech."

 

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6

 

In elders' eyes she brooks not stay,

Half-clad no more her body but always

She covers her most maidenly.

Yet with young girls when bideth she

Knowing her ripened child and budding may

They plague her with sweet mockery.

Maadhuv, for thee I wooed the sight

Of this fair flower; whom some delight

Child to call, but most agree

That woman's morning bloom has she.

When of Love's rites she hears and lovers' play

She turns her downcast eyes another way,

O but her ears drink greedily.

Should with more words one tease her shame,

With tears and angry smiles she utters blame.

Who is wise in love alone knoweth

The ways of a girl, the poet saith.

 

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7

 

A little and a little now

See the bright bud half-open blow.

Her swift and wilful feet grown wise

Yield their rudderless gait to the eyes.

Ever her hand to her bosom's dress

Clings to control its waywardness.

Afraid to utter her shy, hushed thought

Her comrade-girls she questions not.

Maadhuv, how shall faltering word

Her sweet and twilight age record?

Love, even Love, beholding her

In his own bonds her captive were.

Nay but the lord of all desire

Her heart's precincts raising higher

Has set for passion's sacred duty

Altars of surpassing beauty.

Love's speech her listening heart doth stop

As the hunter's song the antelope.

Two powers dispute this beauteous prize.

Nought one deems gained while aught there is

To gain, nor the other failure owns

While yet he holds to his golden thrones.

Still with sweet violence she clings

To her loved childhood's parting wings.

 

Page – 400


8

 

Childhood is fled and youth in its seat;

Not light as of old her wandering feet,

Yet are Love's glorious envoys two

Seeing her eyes her errands do.

In secret dawns each lovely smile

And laughter low with maiden guile.

Her hand each moment plucks her dress

Its fluttering treasons to repress.

And all the low speech of her lips

From a modest head and drooping slips.

Her heavy hips have now replaced

The old lost pride of her rounded waist.

 

Thus I decide her doubtful state,

Conclusion sweet of sweet debate.

Thine is this fair decision's fruit

Judgment to give and execute.

I, Bidyapati, love's lights bring

To lady Lochima and the King.

 

Page – 401


9

 

As the swan sails, so moved she

Then when her face was lost to me.

As she went, O she turned, she looked, she smiled.

Ah arrows made of Love's own flower,

O sweet magician! faery power!

No mortal maid but an enchantress wild.

 

Her arms, those sweet twin lovelinesses,

Clasped, bent in languorous self-caresses,

Enhaloed had the lustres of her face.

Her fingers slim for champaks taking,

Love to delicious worship waking

A moon of autumn with such flowers did bless.

 

Her careless breasts, (O happy lover!)

Their rich defence but half did cover

Because of haste when the light robe was worn.

As tho' by winds that overpower

Clouds in the season of storm and shower,

The hills of heaven thro' a dim veil made morn.

 

Vision delightful! shall again

I ease with you my life's deep pain?

Ah! shall again division's boundaries break?

The henna that her feet enrosed

Was fire wherein my heart enclosed

Did burn and all my limbs to burn did make.

 

O lovely maiden, hear the speech

These numbers murmur each to each.

My soul since then no ease, no quiet knows.

Ah! shall I ever, fortune, meet her,

The woman than all women sweeter,

The jewel of all beauties that earth owes?

 

Page – 402


10

 

I have seen a girl no words can measure,

On golden tendrils proudly borne a face,

A spotless moon, a snowy treasure.

Her eyes two lotuses with unguent shaded,

Were play-grounds of sweet loving thought,

Or fluttering, captive birds in a net embedded

Of that dark unguent solely wrought.

Her heavy hills of milk a necklace richer

Of elephant pearls did touch and gleam --

Love sprinkling from her throat, that brimful pitcher,

On golden images heaven's stream.

Fortunate were he who by Proyaga's waters

Long sacrificing might avail

At last to win her. Lover of Gocool's daughters!

Darling of Gocool! true thy tale.

 

Page – 403


11

 

When the hour of twilight its period kept

The damsel out from her dwelling stepped.

Like flashes in a new-born cloud that battling crept,

Golden, a beauty dire.

 

A highborn maiden, a little child,

Woven of flowers and fragrance she smiled.

How with a little sight should hope be reconciled?

Love but increased his fire.

 

Her small sweet body of pale gold made

That shining gold thro' her robe displayed,

The forest lion yields to her slender middle; swayed

Glances much love must earn.

 

A soft smile burned on her lips and she

With a smile and a look did murder me.

Lord of the five Bengals, may longer life with thee

Star-like eternal burn.

 

Page – 404


12

 

A shining grace the damsel's face to her laughter and speech doth lend,

As tho' the sweet full moon of autumn heaven's nectar rained.

A jewel of women with beauty more than human,

I saw her gait of lion state ungraced nought nor common.

Her middle than the lion's slender is,

Her body soft as lotuses;

It seemed a branch with weight breaking of her breasts pomegranate.

Yea and her lovely eyes being with blackness dressed

Were unstained lotuses enamoured bees invest.

The lover beautiful seeing sweet Radha's grace

Breaketh his longing heart with passionate distress.

 

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13

 

The moon-white maiden from her bath

Passing I saw from a woodland path.

From all sweet things she stolen had

Beauty in one fair girl arrayed.

Her tresses that her small hands wrung

A shower of faery water flung

As tho' a fan of beauty whirled

Carcanets with gems impearled.

Her wet curls wearing wondrous grace

Like bees besieged her lotus face

For all that honey wild with lust.

The water from her sweet eyes thrust

Yet left them reddened, as in the ooze

Petals of lotus with ceruse.

Heavy with water her thin robe

Defined each bright and milky globe;

Like golden apples gleamed her breasts

On which the happy hoarfrost rests.

So the robe clung as if it said

"Soon will she leave me and love be dead,

Nor ever once shall I attain

Such exquisite delight again."

So the robe thought, as well appears,

And therefore sorrowed, showering tears.

 

Page – 406


14

Beauty stood bathing in the river

When I beheld her -- Love's whole quiver

Pierced my heart with fivefold fire.

Her curls flung back from the face of my desire

Rained great tears as tho' the night

Stood by and wept in fear of the moon's light.

To every limb her wet robe kissed and clung.

Had even the sage been there

His heart had burned, even his grown young

Seeing through her dress her marvellous limbs made bare.

Her fair twin breasts were river-birds

Whose language is three amorous words.

It seemed that pitying heaven had to one shore

Brought the sweet lovers thence to part no more.

Yet she I deem in such alarm

Held them fast bound within one golden arm,

As if some noise should startle the sweet pair

And they take flight from her.

O amorous boy, be not afraid --

For youth like thine heaven gave this wondrous maid.

 

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15

 

O happy day that to mine eyes betrayed

Bathing the beautiful maid!

Drops like a carcanet of pearls

Fell from her cloud of showering curls.

Her lifted hands did harshly press

The lingering water from her face

That wore new luminousness

As tho' a golden mirror were made clean.

Therewith her robe fell to her lovely feet

And naked breasts revealed their beauties twin,

Like golden cups that seemed reversely set.

The lapse her robe's one bond undid

And naked made what yet lay hid.

O Mithil lyre,

This is the apex of desire.

 

Page – 408


16

 

Beautiful Rai, the flower-like maid

Risen from the river where she played

Saw under down-cast lids and shy

The lovely boy, dark Krishna named.

A highborn child with face afraid

Before her elders and eyes ashamed

She might not gaze as she went by.

O subtle is that beautiful girl!

She left the gracious troop behind;

With half-turned face and half-declined

From far in front full sweet her call.

She broke her carcanet of pearl

And let the precious seedlings fall.

"O friends, my broken carcanet."

Each girl her lovely hand did set

Stooping to find the scattered grain.

Meanwhile the damsel's eyes full fain,

Like birds that on white moonbeams feed,

Of Krishna's shape took amorous heed.

Divine the nectar that she drained,

O Krishna, from thy cheeks of light.

Yea, each of each had honied sight.

Thus gazing girl and boy extend

Love's boundaries seen by none but me

The poet, sweet Bidyapati.

 

Page – 409


17

 

Ah how shall I her lovely body express?

Fair things how many Nature in her blended,

Mine own eyes saw ere my lips praise.

 

Her twin fair feet were lordly leaves of summer,

Her gait vied with the forest's best.

Upon two golden trees a lion slender,

Thereover the hills of heaven placed.

 

And on the hills two lotuses were budding

That stemless kept their gracious hours.

In shape of pearl-drops strung heaven's stream descended,

Therefore not withered those sweet flowers.

 

Her teeth pomegranate-seeds on lips of ruby,

The sun and moon on either side,

Her hair eclipse, but coming never nearer

Hid not at all their golden pride.

 

The cuckoo's speech, the antelope's eyes has Radha,

And Love has in her glances thrones —

Upon two lotuses two bees that hover

And sip their honey: these she owns

 

The spring's five children. O delicious maiden,

Not the wide worlds her second know,

To Sheva Singha Ruupnaraian my music

And lady Lochima doth show.

 

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18

 

When the young warm Love her heart doth fill

Where is the let stays woman's will?

Alone to set forth lightly she dares,

Path or pathless not Radha who cares. 

She has left her pearled carcanet

Her breast's high towers that hampered.

The bracelets fair on her wrists that shone

All by the path has the young girl thrown.

Anklets gemmed on her feet did glow,

She has thrown them far the lighter to go.

The gloom is thick and heavy the night,

But Love to her eyes makes darkness light.

Her every step new perils doth prove,

She has pierced thro' all with the sword of Love.

Her passionate heart the poet knows.

Another like her not the wide world shows.

 

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19

 

"'Tis night and very timid my little love.

How long ere I see her hither swanlike move!

Dread serpents fill with fear the way;

What perils those soft beloved feet waylay.

Providence, I lay her at thy feet;

Scatheless keep she the tryst, my own, my sweet.

The sky is thick and mired the earth,

Perils wide-strewn: ah me, what fears have birth.

Thick darkness are the quarters ten.

The feet stumble, nought clear the eyes may gain.

She comes! With timid backward glances

Every creature's heart how she entrances!

A girl she is of human grace,

Yet wears all heaven stolen in her face."

For high-born women to be o'erborne

By love endure; all other check they scorn. 

 

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20

 

The best of the year has come, the Spring,

Of the six seasons one season king;

And now with all his tribes the bee

Runs to the creeper spring-honey.

The sun's rays come of boyish age,

The day-describing sun, his page,

A sceptre of gold the saffron-bloom

And the young leaves a crowning-room.

Gold-flowers of champak o'er him stand,

The umbrellaed symbol of command;

The cary-buds a crown do set

And before him sings a court-poet,

The Indian cuckoo to whom is given

The sweetest note of all the seven.

Peacocks dance and for instrument

Murmur of bees, while sacrament

Of blessing and all priestly words

Brahmins recite, the twice-born birds.

Pollen, the flying dust of flowers,

His canopy above him towers,

His favourite the southern breeze,

Jasmine of youth and Tuscan-trees

His battle-flag. The season of dew,

Seeing sweet blossoms-of-bliss renew,

Seven-leaf and boughs that fragrance loves

And kings-hook and the climbing cloves,

Seven things of bloom together, flees

Nor waits the perfumed shock of these.

Spring's army too the chill estate

Of the dew-season annihilate —

Invading honey-bees — and make

Secure the lilies of the lake.

And these being saved yield them a home

In their own soft, new-petalled bloom.

In Brindabun anew is mirth

 

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For the restored bloom of earth.

These are the season's sweets and these

The essence of the Spring's increase.

 

21

 

In the spring moonlight the lord of love

Thro' the amorous revel's maze doth move;

The crown of love love's raptures proves,

For Radha his amorous darling moves,

Radha, the ruby of ravishing girls

With him bathed in love's moonlight whirls.

And all the merry maidens with rapture

Dancing together the light winds capture,

And the bracelets speak with a ravishing cry,

And the murmur of waist-bells rises high —

Meanwhile rapture-waking string

Ripest of strains the sonata of Spring,

That lover and lord of love-languid notes

With tired delight in throbbing throats.

And rumours of violin and bow

And the mighty Queen's-harp mingle and flow,

And Radha's ravisher makes sweet measure

With the flute, that musical voice of pleasure.

Bidyapati's genius richly wove

For King Ruupnaraian this rhythm of love.

 

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22

 

Hark how round goes the instruments' sound!

With the sweet love wild

Of Gocool's child

She danceth mistress of the fair arts sixty-four.

And her hands rhyme keeping time,

Her smitten hands that still the fall restore.

And the tabors keep melody deep

And the heavy thrum

Of the measured drum

And anklets' running cry their own slim music loving.

The waist bells sprinkle their silver tinkle

And bracelets gold that gems do hold;

Loud is the instruments' din to madness moving.

And harps begin and the violin

And the five vessels

Where melody swells

Thro' all the gamut move and various moods express.

And over and under the twydrum's thunder,

With whose noise the vessels five mix and embrace.

From loosened tresses that toil undresses

And floating whirls

On the shoulders of girls

The jasmine garlands' buds sprinkle the vernal night.

Ah revels of Spring! with powerless wing

These verses grieve not reaching your delight.

 

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