Refuge* 1.   Though thou shouldst not spare me the anguish of the world, yet I have no refuge but thy feet. 0 Lord of the City of the wise begirt by gar-dens full of sweet flowers, if, in a keen-edged wrath, the mother cast off the babe, what can it do but cry for the mother's love? I am like that babe. 2.  If the man whom she loves subject her to contumely, the high-born wife still clings to him; for he is her chosen lord. And I, too, 0 Lord of the City of the wise whose walls reach up to Heaven, I will ever praise thy victorious feet, even if thou shouldst leave me unprotected. 3.  Reject me, 0 Lord, and I will yet hold on to thee, not knowing another prop. 0 Lord of th

Golden Daughter* At the day-end behold the Golden Daughter of Imagination — She sits alone under the Tree of Life. A form of the Truth of Being has risen before her rocking there like a lake And on it is her unwinking gaze. But from the unfathomed Abyss where it was buried, upsurges A tale of lamentation, a torrent-lightning passion, A melancholy held in the flowing blood of the veins, — A curse thrown from a throat of light. The rivers of a wind that has lost its perfumes are bearing away On their waves the Mantra-rays that were her ornaments Into the blue self-born sea of the silent Dawn; The ceaseless vib

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NO TE Sri Aurobindo, on his return to India, started steeping himself in Indian Culture and began learning the Indian languages — Sanskrit, Bengali, Gujarati, Marathi, etc. At the same time he commenced translating from Sanskrit and Bengali. We find in his manuscripts a few lists enumerating the work he had done, judging from which many translations seem to have been lost. The translation of Kalidasa's Meghaduta in terza rima, is, we know for certain, irretrievable. Most of the translations from the Mahabharata, the Ramayana, the Gita, Kalidasa, Bhartrihari and the mediaeval poets Bidyapati, Chandidas, Horn Thakur, etc. were done during S

-67_Nammalwar's Hymn of the Golden Age.htm Nammalwar's Hymn of the Golden Age 1.  'Tis glory, glory, glory! For Life's hard curse has expired; swept out are Pain and Hell, and Death has nought to do here. Mark ye, the Iron Age shall end. For we have seen the hosts of Vishnu; richly do they enter in and chant His praise and dance and thrive. 2.   We have seen, we have seen, we have seen — seen things full sweet for our eyes. Come, all ye lovers of God, let us shout and dance for joy with oft-made surrenderings. Vide do they roam on earth singing songs and dancing, the hosts of Krishna who wears the cool and beautiful Tulsi, the desire of the Bees.                                        

CHAPTER FOUR krishna “This is the Yoga, I declared to Vivasvan, that cannot perish; Vivasvan told it to Manu, Manu to Ixvacou repeated it. Thus was it handed down from generation to generation, and known of the philosopher kings, till in a mighty lapse of time that Yoga was lost, O scourge of thy foemen. This is that same ancient Yoga that I today have declared to thee because thou art my worshipper and lover and friend, for it is the noblest mystery of all.” urjoona “Of these latter times is thy birth, O Krishna, of the high ancient times was the birth of Vivasvan, how should I understand aright this thy saying that thou in the beginning declaredst it?

The Line of Raghu* For mastery of word and sense I bow to the Pair close-wedded as word and sense, the parents of the world, the Mountain's child and the Mighty Lord. Wide is the gulf between the race born of the Sun and a mind thus scantily stored! I am one that in his infatuation would cross in a raft the difficult ocean. Dull of wit, yet aspiring to poetic glory I shall expose myself to mockery like a dwarf who in his greed lifts up his arms to a fruit meant only for the giant's grasp. Yet into the story of this race a door of speech has been made by the inspired minds of old and through which I can enter as a thread can p

The Birth of the War-God* canto Two But now in spheres above whose motions fixed Confirm our cyclic steps, a cry arose Anarchic. Strange disorders threatened Space. There was a tumult in the calm abodes, A clash of arms, a thunder of defeat. Hearing that sound our smaller physical home Trembled in its pale circuits. Fearing soon The ethereal revolt might touch its stars. Then were these knots of our toy orbits torn And like a falling leaf this world might sink From the high tree mysterious where it hangs Between that voiceful and this silent flood. For long a mute indifference had seized Th

II The Debated Sacrifice .... But when Yudhishthere had heard The sages’ speech, his heart was moved with sighs He coveted Imperial Sacrifice. All bliss went from him. Only to his thought The majesty of royal saints was brought By sacrifice exalted. Paradise Acquired augustly, and before his eyes He most was luminous who in heaven shone, Heaven by sacrificial merit won. He too that offering would absolve; so now Receiving reverence with a courteous brow, The assembly broke, to meditate retiring On that great sacrifice of his desiring. Frequent the thought and ever all its length His mind leaned that way

A Beauty Infinite* A Beauty infinite, an unborn Power On Time's vast forehead drew her mystic line; An unseen Radiance filled the primal hour, — First script, creation's early rapture-wine. Lightning in Night the eternal moment wrote. Her lone eyes bathed in hue of loveliness Saw on a flaming stream a single boat Follow through dawn some great Sun's orbit-trace. The Dawn-world flashed — torn was the heart of Night. Why came then Dawn here with her cloud and surge? Darkness erased the hint of new-born Light, — Till suddenly quivered above the pilgrim Urge, Its flower-car washed blood

ON WEALTH The Prayer to Mammon Cast birth into the nether Hell; let all The useless tribe of talents farther fall; Throw virtue headlong from a rock and turn High nobleness into the fire to burn; The heroic heart let some swift thunder rive, Our enemy that hinders us to live; Wealth let us only keep; this one thing less, All those become as weeds and emptiness. A Miracle Behold a wonder mid the sons of men! The man is undiminished he we knew, Unmaimed his organs and his senses keen Even as of old, his actions nowise new, Voice, tone and words the same we heard before, The brain’s resistless march too as of yore;