No. 1 1  THE LIFE DIVINE CHAPTER XI DELIGHT OF EXISTENCE: THE PROBLEM         For who could live or breathe if there were not this delight of exist-e nee as the ether in which we dwell. Taittiriya Upanishad.     From Delight all these becomings are born, by Delight they exist and grow, to Delight they return. Ibid.     But even if we accept this pure existence, this Brahman, this Sat as the absolute beginning, end and continent of things and in Brahman an inherent self-consciousness inseparable from its being, throwing itself out as a force of movement of consciousness which is creative of forces, forms and worlds, we have yet no answer to the

  CANTO TWELVE   THE HEAVENS OF THE IDEAL   ALWAYS the Ideal beckoned from afar. Awakened by the touch of the Unseen, Deserting the boundary of things achieved, Aspired the strong discoverer, tireless Thought, Revealing at each step a luminous world. It left known summits for the unknown peaks: Impassioned, it sought the lone unrealised Truth, It longed for the Light that knows not death and birth. Each stage of the soul's remote ascent was built Into a constant heaven felt always here. At each pace of the journey marvellous A new degree of wonder and of bliss, A new rung formed in

  PART THREE Books IX-XII BOOK NINE The Book of Eternal Night CANTO ONE   TOWARDS THE BLACK VOID   SO was she left alone in the huge wood, Surrounded by a dim unthinking world, Her husband's corpse on her forsaken breast. She measured not her loss with helpless thoughts, Nor rent with tears the marble seals of pain: She rose not yet to face the dreadful god. Over the body she loved her soul leaned out In a great stillness without stir or voice, As if her mind had died with Satyavan. But still the human heart in her beat on. Aware still of his being near to hers, Closel

  CANTO NINE   THE PARADISE OF THE LIFE-GODS   A ROUND him shone a great felicitous Day. A lustre of some rapturous Infinite, It held in the splendour of its golden laugh Regions of the heart's happiness set free, Intoxicated with the wine of God, Immersed in light, perpetually divine. A favourite and intimate of the Gods Obeying the divine command to joy, It was the sovereign of its own delight And master of the kingdoms of its force. Assured of the bliss for which all forms were made, Unmoved by fear and grief and the shocks of Fate And unalarmed by the breath of fleeting Time

  PART ONE Books I - III BOOK ONE The Book of Beginnings CANTO ONE   THE SYMBOL DAWN   IT was the hour before the Gods awake, Across the path of the divine Event The huge foreboding mind of Night, alone In her unlit temple of eternity, Lay stretched immobile upon Silence' marge. Almost one felt, opaque, impenetrable, In the sombre symbol of her eyeless muse The abysm of the unbodied Infinite, A fathomless zero occupied the world. A power of fallen boundless self awake Between the first and the last Noth

-51_Bande Mataram (in prose).htm BANDE MATARAM TRANSLATOR’S NOTE It is difficult to translate the National Anthem of Bengal into verse in another language owing to its unique union of sweetness, simple directness and high poetic force. All attempts in this direction have been failures. In order, therefore, to bring the reader unacquainted with Bengali nearer to the exact force of the original, I give the transla­tion in prose line by line. Page– 311 Page– 312 Bande Mataram I bow to thee, Mother, richly-watered, richly-fruited, cool with the winds of the south, dark with the crops of the harvests,

SONGS OF BIDYAPATI Songs of Bidyapati 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 dream

ON FATE Fate Masters the Gods Brihuspathy1 his path of vantage shows, The red disastrous thunder leaves his hand Obedient, the high Gods in burning rows His battled armies make, high heaven’s his fort, Iravath swings his huge trunk for his sport, The Almighty’s guardian favours over him stand; That Indra with these strengths, this lordship proud Is broken by his foes in battle loud. Come then, bow down to Fate. Alas, the vain Heroisms, virtues, toils of glorious man! A Parable of Fate A serpent in a basket crushed despaired, His organs all wi