The Penguin Book of Classical Indian Love Stories and Lyrics Page 2
springs spectacular from the hill top, gleaming
as if blended of the lustres of brilliant gems.
Shot through by its sheen, your dark-blue body
shines resplendent like Vishnu’s in his cowherd guise,
lit up by irridescent peacock-plumes.
16
While rustic women unversed in eyebrow play
drink you in with eyes moist with happiness
knowing the harvest to depend on you,
ascend the upland plains fragrant from fresh furrowing;
then veering slightly to the west, speed on
keeping ever to the north.
17
As you approach the noble mountain Citrakuta,
he will greet you, O travel-weary Rain-Giver,
and bear you on his head held high: you too
with sharp showers will quench summer’s cruel fires.
The tenderness of true feeling in the great
bears fruit in no time, returning kindness for kindness.
18
With his forest fires fully quenched by your sharp
showers,
Amrakuta will bear you gratefully
on his crown, travel-weary as you are;
even the meanest remembering former favours
will not turn his face away from a friend
who seeks shelter; what then of one so lofty!
19
Its slopes all aglow with the ripened fruit
of wild mangoes, and you on its peak set
like a coil of dark glossy hair, the mountain
—seeming Earth’s breast—dark-blue centre
encircled by pale-gold expansive curves—
will appear entrancing to celestial lovers.
20
Resting awhile on that mountain
in whose bowers the brides of foresters sport,
and lightened by your waters’ outpouring
you’ll speedily cross the road beyond
and see Reva’s streams spreading dishevelled
at Vindhya’s uneven rocky foothills,
inlaying them like ashen streaks
decorating an elephant’s body.
21
Your rain disgorged, draw up that river’s water
whose flow impeded by rose-apple brakes
is pungent with the scent of wild elephants in rut,
and journey on; gaining inner strength
the wind cannot make light of you, O Rain-Cloud;
for hollowness makes things light; fullness bestows
weight.
22
Seeing the green-gold Nipa flowers
with their stamens half-emerging
and the Kandal is showing their early buds
along the edge of every pool,
savouring the rich fragrance of the earth
in the forests burnt by fire,
antelopes will chart your path as you pass
shedding fresh rain drops.
23
Siddhas watching catakas
skilled catching falling rain drops,
and pointing out to egrets in flight,
counting them on their fingers,
will pay you their grateful respect,
suddenly obtaining a flurry of unexpected embraces
from their beloved wives clinging to them in alarm
trembling at the sound of your thunder.
24
Even though you would wish to proceed with speed
for the sake of my happiness, my friend,
I foresee delay while you loiter
on peak after peak fragrant with wild jasmine;
though peacocks, their eyes moist with joy may greet you
with welcoming cries, I pray you, try to hasten onward.
25
The Dasarnas will put on a new beauty
at your approach:
woodland ringed round by ketakas
with needle-pointed buds newly-opened
will glow a pale gold:
birds starting to nest will throng
the sacred peepuls in the village squares:
rose-apple groves will darken
with the sheen of ripening blue-black fruit
and wild geese settle for a few days.
26
When you reach that royal city, Vidisa by name
widely renowned, you shall at once obtain
the unalloyed fulfilment of a lover’s desire,
tasting Vetravati’s sweet waters as a lover his beloved’s
lips,
with sonorous thunder passing along her banks
as she flows with knitted brows of tremulous wavelets.
27
There you shall alight seeking rest on Nicai hill
thrilling with delight at your touch
as Kadambas burst into sudden bloom;
the hill loudly proclaims through grottoes
exhaling fragrances of pleasure,
passions unrestrained of the city’s youth
dallying there in love-sports with courtesans.
28
Having rested, go on, sprinkling with fresh rain drops
clusters of jasmine-buds in gardens by woodland streams,
enjoying a fleeting together-ness
as your gift of shade touches
the faces of flower-gathering maidens, who
each time they wipe the sweat off their cheeks, bruise
the wilting lotuses hung at their ears.
29
As your course points due north to Alaka,
the way to Ujjayini is a detour no doubt,
but do not therefore turn away from a visit to her
palace-terraces.
Indeed you would have lived in vain if you do not dally
there
with the tremulous eyes of the city’s beautiful women
that dart in alarm at the branched lightning’s flashes.
30
On your path, when you meet Nirvindhya
wearing a girdle strung of chiming bells
—a row of water-birds plashing on her undulating
waves—
weaving her sinuous course with charming unsteady gait
to reveal eddies forming her navel
—such coy gestures are women’s first statements of
love—
be sure to be filled with love’s fine flavour.
31
Crossing that river, O fortunate lover,
yours will be the happy task to induce Sindhu
visibly grieving at your absence,
her waters shrunk to a thin braid and pale
with the paleness of dry leaves
fallen from trees rooted on her banks,
to cast off the sorrow withering her.
32
Reaching Avanti whose village-elders
are well-versed in the Udayana-tales,
go towards that city already spoken of;
to Ujjayini glowing in splendour
like a brilliant piece of Paradise
come down to earth with traces of merits
of dwellers in Paradise returning,
the fruit of their good deeds almost spent.
33
At day-break in Ujjayini, Sipra’s cool breeze
scented with the fragrance of lotuses comes
prolonging the piercing cries of love-maddened
saras-cranes.
Refreshing to the tired limbs of women
after passion’s ecstatic play, it removes
their languor like an artful lover
plying his love with amorous entreaties.
34 & 35
Smoke drifting through lattice-screens
from aromatic gums that perfume women’s hair
enhances your beautiful form;
Palace-peacocks out of fellow-feeling
present you their gift-offering of dance;
worn out with travel, having passed the ni
ght
in her flower-fragrant mansions marked with red lac
from the feet of lovely ladies, approach
the holy shrine of Candesvara, Preceptor of the
Triple-World,
watched with awe by the Lord’s attendants,
because your hue is the blue of His throat.
Its gardens are stirred by Gandhavati’s breezes
scented with the pollen of blue-lotuses
and fragrances wafted from unguents
used by young women sporting in her waters.
36
If by chance you reach Mahakala at a time other than
sunset,
stay on till the sun disappears from sight;
by performing the exalted office of the temple-drum
in the evening-rituals offered to the spear-armed Lord
you will enjoy the full fruit, O Rain-Bearer,
of the deep-throated rumblings of your thunder.
37
With jewelled belts tinkling as they move with measured
steps,
temple-dancers whose hands tire, gracefully waving
chowries with glittering gem-studded handles.
will taste from the first rain-drops you shed,
pleasure as from a lover’s nail-marks and shower on you
sidelong glances streaming like a line of honey-bees.
38
Then bathed in evening’s glow red as fresh china rose
flowers
when the Lord of Beings commences His Cosmic Dance,
encircling, merging into the forest of His uplifted arms,
dispel His desire to wear the blood-moist elephant-hide,
your devotion observed by Bhavani
with steady eyes, her terror now calmed.
39
Young women going to their lovers’ dwellings at night
set out on the royal highway mantled
in sight-obscuring darkness you could pierce with a pin;
light their path with streaked lightning
glittering like gold-rays on a touchstone,
but do not startle them with thunder and pelting rain
for they are easily alarmed.
40
On the top most terrace of some turreted mansion
where ring-doves sleep,
pass the night with your lightning-wife
much-fatigued by continual play. But pray
resume your journey the moment the sun rises;
surely, those who undertake to help a friend
do not linger over providing that help.
41
Philandering husbands come home at sunrise
called on to comfort their anguished wives
by drying the welling tears of betrayal;
therefore move quickly out of the sun’s path;
he too returns at dawn to the lotus-pool
to dry the dew-tears on her lotus-face;
he would be not a little incensed
that you obstruct his bright ray-fingers.
42
Your self intrinsically beautiful
even in its shadow-form will enter Gambhira’s clear
waters
as into a tranquil pool of consciousness;
do not therefore cavalierly dismiss
her welcoming glances—those dazzling upward leaps
of glittering white fishes bright as water-lilies.
43
Her dark-blue waters like a garment
slipping off the sloping bank of her hips,
still cling to the reed-branches
as if lightly held up by one hand;
drawing it away as you bend over her, my friend,
will it not be hard for you to depart?
For who can bear to leave a woman, her loins bared,
once having tasted her body’s sweetness?
44
Fragrant with the scent of the earth freshened by your
showers,
a cool wind that ripens the fruit on wild fig-trees
is inhaled with delight by elephants
through their water-spout-trunks;
it will waft you gently to the Lord’s hill
that you seek to approach.
45
Skanda has made that hill his fixed abode;
transform yourself into a flower-cloud
and shower him with blossoms moist with Ganga’s
celestial waters;
for he is the blazing energy, sun-surpassing,
that the wearer of the crescent-moon placed
in the Divine Fire’s mouth to protect Indra’s hosts.
46
Then, let your thunder magnified by the echoing
mountain
spur the peacock the fire-born god rides, to dance,
its eyes brightened by the radiance of Shiva’s moon;
Bhavani out of affection for her son
places its fallen plume
gleaming with irridescent circlets on her ear
in place of the lotus-petal she wears.
47
Having thus worshipped
the god born in a thicket of reeds
and travelling some distance
as Siddha-couples bearing lutes
leave your path free, from fear of water-drops,
bend low to honour Rantideva’s glory sprung
from the sacrifice of Surabhi’s daughters
and flowing on earth changed into a river.
48
Stealing the colour of the god who draws the horn-bow
as you bend down to drink its waters,
sky-rangers looking down will indeed see with wonder
that river from the far distance
as a thin line, broad though she is,
as if Earth wore a single strand of pearls
set with a large sapphire at the centre.
49
Crossing that river go onwards making
yourself the target for the eager eyes
of Dasapura’s women accomplished
in the graceful play of curving eye-brows,
their eyes with upturned lashes flashing
with the beauty of gazelles leaping up
and far surpassing the grace of honey-bees
on white jasmines swaying.
50
Ranging with your shadow through the land
of Brahmavarta stretching below Kuru’s field,
do not fail to visit the battleground
that marks the great war of the barons,
where the wielder of the Gandiva-bow
showered hundreds of sharp arrows on princely faces
as you shoot driving downpours on lotuses.
51
The Plough-Bearer, turning away from that war
out of affection for his kinsmen, renounced
the cherished wine reflecting Revati’s eyes
and worshipped Sarasvati’s waters; you too,
enjoying those waters, O gentle Sir,
will become pure within, dark only in form.
52
From there you should visit Jahnu’s daughter
near Kanakhala’s hill where she comes down
the slopes of the Lord of Mountains, making
a stairway for Sagara’s sons going up to Heaven.
She grasped Shiva’s matted hair
clinging with wave-hands to His crest-jewel, the moon,
foam-laughter mocking the frown on Gauri’s face.
53
If you aim to drink her clear crystal waters slantwise,
hanging down by your hind-quarters in the sky
like some elephant out of Paradise,
as your shadow glides along her stream
she would appear beautiful at once as though
she and Yamuna flowed together at that spot.
54
Reaching that river’s true birth-pace, the mountain
white with snows, its rocks scen
ted by musk deer lying
there;
and reclining on its peak to remove
the long journey’s weariness, you will wear
a beauty comparable to the stain on the horn
of the triple-eyed lord’s white bull rooting in the mud.
55
If a forest-fire born of cedar branches
clashing in the blowing wind
should assail the mountain, and its fiery sparks
scorch the bushy tails of yaks,
pray quench it fully with a thousand sharp showers.
The riches of the great are best employed
to ease the miseries of the distressed.
56
Unable to bear the thunder hurled down,
Sarabhas on the mountain puffed up with pride
will suddenly spring up in fury towards you
who are beyond reach, only to shatter their own limbs;
scatter them with your tumultuous laughter of hail.
Who indeed that undertakes vain-glorious acts
would not become the butt of ridicule!
57
Bending low in adoration, go round
the rock bearing the foot-print of the moon-crested Lord,
perpetually worshipped with offerings by Siddhas;
looking upon it, the body abandoned
and sins shaken off, the faithful gain
the Eternal Station of the Lord’s attendants.
58
The wind breathing through hollow bamboos makes
sweet music;
woodland nymphs sing with passion-filled voices
of the victory over the triple-city;
if your thunder rumbles in the glens like a drum
would not the ensemble then be complete
for the Dance-Drama of the Lord of Beings?
59
Passing over many marvels on Himalaya’s slopes,
you should go north through the narrow Kraunca-pass
—gateway for wild geese and path to glory
for the Bhrigu Chief—lengthened out cross-wise,
beautiful like Vishnu’s dark-blue foot
stretched out to curb Bali’s pride.
60
Still climbing higher, be Kailasa’s guest
—mirror for goddesses—the joints of its ridges
cracked by ten-faced Ravana’s straining arms.
Towering up into the sky with lofty peaks
radiant like white water-lilies, it stands
as if it were the wild laughter
of the Parent of the Triple-World
piled up through the ages.
61
When, glistening like smooth-ground collyrium, you lean
dark on its slopes white as ivory freshly cut,
that mountain, I imagine would, like the Plough-Bearer
with a dark-blue mantle slung o’er his shoulder
attain to a grace so arresting
as to hold the gaze entranced.
62
And if Gauri should stroll on that mountain
created for play, holding Shiva’s hand
divested of its snake-bracelet,