Triveni Journal
1927 | 11,233,916 words
Triveni is a journal dedicated to ancient Indian culture, history, philosophy, art, spirituality, music and all sorts of literature. Triveni was founded at Madras in 1927 and since that time various authors have donated their creativity in the form of articles, covering many aspects of public life....
(“Daiva Paddhati”)
BHARTRUHARI
Despite the mighty forces; Jupiter as leader;
the Deities
As militia; Thunderbolt the weapon; Heaven the fortress;
Iravatha to guard; Vishnu to favour;
Indra, by enemies
Was defeated. Without Divine help what for human efforts?
Making a bore for food to the chest of a snake,
Got in a rat. The despaired snake in it that did lie
In fear, had it for food and through bore did make
Its way out. So growth and decay, in Him doth lie.
Fallen though from rank by chance a noble,
Like a ball of rubber, again he doth rise;
But thumps like a clump of clay an ignoble,
And because of his lowness, he never doth rise.
Scorched by the summer sun a bald-headed one
Seeking shelter under a palm soon he did run;
But the direct fall of the fruit, his head bruised.
Follow the calamities, wherever goes the unblessed.
Be caged, the elephants, serpents and birds by men;
And teased by the two planets, the sun and the moon;
And suffered bypoverty, the good-minded one.
On this I assess, how powerful the Fate doth seem!
Creating a man with faculties bright,
Sends forth to earth as gift a great,
The Creator, if takes him soon,
How unwise and unkind of Him it is seen!
The Moon; though Lord of herbs; for Manna a mine;
A jewel for Siva; and followed by men of medicine;
Yeas, be made to suffer from decaying line.
How can anyone escape ill-fate's cruel line?
Like a skilled potter, the cruel Fate, making the mind
A clump of clay, struck with force with curses lined,
And round and round turns the cycle of sorrows.
What purpose doth He intend of that, whoever knows?
Oh! idiotic Fate! seekest thou to extinct the boldness
Of the great causing them dangers? This wickedness
Leave off! see, how stately stand the seas seven
And the mighty mountains at the end of the ages even!
On earth what hath been set to lot by the powerful Fate
The one geteth with no effort, but not ofhis noble state,
Just from the thick clouds that rain for all, fall
In water cuckoo's throat just one or two drops small.
– Translated from Sanskrit by Inguva Raghava Rao