TRANSLATIONS

 

SRI AUROBINDO

 

Contents 

 

 

I. FROM SANSKRIT

   

 

 

 

BHAGAVAD GITA

 
 

Chapter One

 
 

Chapter Two

 
 

Chapter Three

 
 

Chapter Four

 
 

Chapter Five

 
 

Chapter Six

 

 

 

KALIDASA

 
 

The Birth of the War-God

 Canto One:

 
 

The Birth of the War-God, Canto Two

 
 

Malavica and the King

 
 

The Line of Raghu

 

 

 

 

Sankaracharya

 
 

Bhavani

 

 

 

 

III FROM TAMIL

 

 IV. FROM GREEK AND LATIN

 
 

The Kural

 

Odyssey

 
 

Nammalwar’s Hymn of the Golden Age

 

On A Satyr and Seeping Love

 
 

Love-Mad

 

A Rose of Women

 
 

Refuge

 

To Lesbia

 
 

To the Cuckoo

     
 

I Dreamed a Dream

     
 

Ye Others

     

 

 

 

 SELECTED POEMS OF JNANADAS 

 

Selected Poems of Jnanadas

 

The soul, as yet divided from the Eternal, yet having caught a glimpse of his intoxicating beauty grows passionate in remem­brance and swoons with the. sensuous expectation of union.

 

0 beauty meant all hearts to move!

0 body made for girls to kiss!

In every limb an idol of love,

A spring of passion and of bliss.

 

The eyes that once his beauty see,

Poor eyes! can never turn away,

The heart follows him ceaselessly

Like a wild beast behind its prey.

 

Not to be touched those limbs, alas!

They are another’s nest of joy.

But ah their natural loveliness!

Ah God, the dark, the wonderful boy?

 

His graceful sportive motion sweet

Is as an ornament to earth,

And from his lovely pacing feet

Beauties impossible take birth.

 

Catching one look not long nor sure,

One look of casual glory shed,

How many noble maidens pure

Lay down on love as ,on a bed.

 

The heart within the heart deep hid

He ravishes; almost in play

One looks, — ere falling of the lid,

Her heart has gone with him away! 

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Oh if his eyes wake such sweet pain

That even sleep will not forget,

What dreadful sweetness waits me when

Body and passionate body meet. 

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 II 

The human Spirit has undertaken with Nature its nurse to cross the deep river of life in the frail and ragged boat of the human mind and senses’, storms arising, it flings itself in terror at the feet of the divine boatman and offers itself to him as the price of safety.  

 

Ah nurse, what will become of us? This old

      And weary, battered boat,

No iron its decrepit planks to hold,

      Hardly it keeps afloat.

 

The solemn deep unquiet awful river

      Fathomless, secret, past

All plummet with a wind begins to quiver;

      The storm arises fast.

 

Jamouna leaps into the boat uplifting

      A cry of conquering waves;

The boat is tossed, the boat is whirled; the shifting

      Large billows part like graves.

 

The boat hurls down with the mad current fleeing,

      Ah pity, oarsman sweet,

I lay myself for payment, body and being

      Abandoned at thy feet. 

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III 

The Eternal replies that the beauty of human souls has driven out all care for or art of guidance in the phenomenal world and unless the latter reveal themselves naked of earthly desires and gratify his passion, they must sink in the Ocean of life.

 

In vain my hands bale out the waves inleaping,

      The boat is drowning, drowning;

A storm comes over the great river sweeping;

      Huge billows rise up frowning.

 

The rudder from my hand is wrenched in shivers,

      Death stares in all his starkness.

The boat is tossed and whirled, and the great river’s

      Far banks plunge into darkness.

 

What can I do? Jamouna’s rising, surging

      To take us to her clasp,

And the fierce rush of waters hurries urging

The rudder from my grasp.

 

Never I knew till now, nor any word in

      The mouths of men foretold

That a girl’s beauty was too great a burden

      For one poor boat to hold.

 

Come, make you bare, throw off your robes, each maiden;

      Your naked beauties bring,

Lighten your bodies of their sweets o’erladen;

      Then I’ll resume rowing.

 

Girls, you have made me drunk with milk and sweetness,

      You have bewitched my soul,

My eyes can judge no more the wind’s fierce fleetness,

      Nor watch the waters roll. 

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They are fixed in you, they are tangled in your tresses,

      They will never turn again.

Where I should see the waves, I see your faces,

      Your bosoms, not the rain.

 

You will not let me live, you are my haters,

      Your eyes have caused my death.

I feel the boat sink down in the mad waters,

      Down, down the waves beneath, 

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IV 

She.           For love of thee I gave all life’s best treasures.

He.             For love of thee I left my princely pleasures.

She.           For love of thee I roam in woodland ways.

He.             For love of thee the snow-white kine I graze.

She.           For love of thee I don the robe of blue.

He.             For love of thee I wear thy golden hue.

She.           For love of thee my spotless name was stained.

He.             For love of thee my father was disdained.

She.           Thy love has changed my whole world into thee.

He.             Thy love has doomed mine eyes one face to see.

She.           Save love of thee no thought my sense can move.

He.             Thee, thee I worship,1 and thy perfect love.

 

1 cherish

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 V 

The divine Soul pities, stays and comforts the human, which is set to toil in the heat and dust of life by its lord the world and Us elders, the laws and ways of the world.

 

      Neat-herdess, my star!

      What has led to fields so far

The loveliest face and limbs ever created!

      Love’s heart cries out beholding all

      Thy potent beauty natural;

The world is with thy robe intoxicated.

 

      Rest by me a space,

      I will fan thy lovely face,

Lest the sun gaze on it with too much nearness.

      Alas, thy little rosy feet,

      How canst thou walk upon them, sweet.

My body aches to see their tired fairness.


 

      Elders stone of heart!

      They have sent to the mart

Far-distant in their callous greed of earning;

      How shall thy own lord long avoid

      Lightning whose breast of pity1 void

Endured to send thee through this heat and burning.


 

      Thy soft cheeks that burn

      Laughing shyly thou dost turn

Away still, all thy shamefast bosom veiling.

      This is no way to sell, sweet maid!

      When such divine saleswomen trade,

Honey-sweet words help best their rich retailing.

 

¹ softness

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VI 

The divine Soul besets the human as it fares upon the business of life, adorned and beautiful and exacts dues of love.

 

Beautiful Radha, Caanou dost thou see not

Toll-keeper here, that thou wouldst pass by stealth;

But I have caught thee fast and thou shalt go not

Until thou give me toll of all thy wealth.

 

First thine eyes’ unguent, then thy star vermilion,

For these a million kisses I extort,

Upon thy bosom’s vest I fix two million

And the stringed pearls that with thy bosom sport.

 

For bracelets fine to these thy small wrists clinging

And jewelled belt three million kisses say,

This red lac on thy feet and anklets bringing

Four million thou hast doomed thy lips to pay.

 

These thy king asks nor will one jot recall;

These yield me patiently in law’s due course

Or here amidst thy damsels from thy small

Red mouth I will extort my dues by force. 

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 VII 

The human soul, in a moment of rapt excitement when the robe of sense has fallen from it, is surprised and seized by the vision of the Eternal.

 

I will lay bare my heart’s whole flame,

To thee, heart’s sister, yea the whole.

The dark-hued limbs I saw in dream,

To these I have given my body and soul.

 

It was a night of wildest showers;

Ever incessant and amain

The heavens thundered through the hours,

Outside was pattering of the rain.

 

Exulting in the lightning’s gleams,

Joyous, I lay down on my bed;

The dress had fallen from my limbs,

I slept with rumours overhead.

 

The peacocks in the treetops high

Between their gorgeous dances shrilled,

The cuckoo cried exultantly,

The frogs were clamorous in the field;

 

And ever with insistent chime

The bird of rumour shrieking fled

Amidst the rain, at such a time

A vision stood beside my bed.

 

He moved like fire into my soul,

The love of him became a part

Of being, and oh his whispers stole

Murmuring in and filled my heart. 

Page– 297


His loving ways, his tender wiles,

The hearts that feel, ah me! so burn

That maidens pure with happy smiles

From shame and peace and honour turn.

 

The lustre of his looks effaced

The moon, of many lovely moods

He is the master; on his breast’

There was a wreath of jasmine buds.

 

Holding my feet, down on the bed

He sat; my breasts were fluttering birds;

His hands upon my limbs he laid,

He bought me for his slave with words.

 

0 me! his eyebrows curved like bows!

0 me! his panther body bright!

Love from his sidelong glances goes

And takes girls prisoners at sight.

 

He speaks with little magic smiles

That force a girl’s heart from her breast.

How many sweet ways he beguiles,

I know; they cannot be expressed.

 

Burning he tore me from my bed

And to his passionate bosom clutched;

I could not speak a word; he said

Nothing, his lips and my lips touched.

 

My body almost swooned away

And from my heart went fear and shame

And maiden pride; panting I lay;

He was around me like a flame.1

 

¹And felt him round me like a flame. 

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