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    Indian Poetry
    Indian Poetry
    Indian Poetry
    Ebook161 pages1 hour

    Indian Poetry

    By Edwin Arnold

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    About this ebook

    This book contains a selection of Indian poetry masterfully translated by the great English poet Edwin Arnold. This rare classic of beautiful Indian poetry is a must-have for any enthusiasts of worldly poesy and constitutes a worthy selection for any library. Originally published in 1886, this rare text has been chosen because of its cultural and historical value, and is proudly republished here with a new introductory biography of the author. Sir Edwin Arnold (1832 - 1904) was an English journalist, and poet , most famous for his seminal work, The Light of Asia (1879).
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRead Books Ltd.
    Release dateOct 22, 2015
    ISBN9781473377004
    Indian Poetry

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      Book preview

      Indian Poetry - Edwin Arnold

      INDIAN POETRY

      Containing

      The Indian Song Of Songs, From The Sanskrit Of The Gîta Govinda Of Jayadeva Two Books From The Iliad Of India (Mahábhárata) Proverbial Wisdom From The Shlokas Of The Hitopadeśa, And Other Oriental Poems

      BY

      SIR EDWIN ARNOLD

      Copyright © 2013 Read Books Ltd.

      This book is copyright and may not be

      reproduced or copied in any way without

      the express permission of the publisher in writing

      British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

      A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

      Contents

      Edwin Arnold

      HYMN TO VISHNU

      SAMODADAMODARO.

      KLESHAKESHAVO.

      MUGDHAMADHUSUDANO.

      SNIGDHAMADHUSUDANO.

      SAKANDKSHAPUNDARIKAKSHO.

      DHRISHTAVAIKUNTO.

      VIPRALABDHAVARNANE NAGARANARAYANO.

      KHANDITAVARNANE VILAKSHALAKSHMIPATI.

      KALAHANTARITAVARNANE MUGDHAMUKUNDO.

      MANINIVARNANE CHATURACHATURBHUJO.

      RADHIKAMILANE SANANDADAMODARO.

      THE RAJPOOT WIFE.

      KING SALADIN.

      THE CALIPH’S DRAUGHT.

      HINDOO FUNERAL SONG.

      SONG OF THE SERPENT-CHARMERS.

      SONG OF THE FLOUR-MILL.

      TAZA BA TAZA

      THE MUSSULMAN PARADISE.

      DEDICATION OF A POEM FROM THE SANSKRIT.

      THE RAJAH’S RIDE.

      TWO BOOKS FROM THE ILIAD OF INDIA.

      THE MAHAPRASTHÁNIKA PARVA OF 

      THE MAHÁBHÁRATA.

      THE ILIAD OF INDIA.

      FROM THE SAUPTIKA PARVA

      OF THE MAHÁBHÁRATA,

      THE MORNING PRAYER.

      PROVERBIAL WISDOM

      SHLOKAS OF THE HITOPADESA.

      PROVERBIAL WISDOM

      Edwin Arnold

      Sir Edwin Arnold was born on 10 June 1832 in Gravesend, Kent, England. He was the second son of a Sussex magistrate, and was educated at King’s School Rochester, before moving onto University College, Oxford. Arnold won the prestigious Newdigate prize for poetry whilst at Oxford, and soon after graduating became a schoolmaster at King Edward’s School, Birmingham. From here, he travelled to India in 1856 as Principal of the Government Sanskrit College at Poona, a post which he held for seven years. This period included the mutiny of 1857, in which Arnold was able to render services for which he was publicly thanked by Lord Elphinstone in the Bombay Council. It was also during this time that Arnold collected material for many of his future works. Returning to England in 1861, he worked as a journalist with the Daily Telegraph, a newspaper with which he continued as associate editor for more than forty years, and later as its editor in chief. It was as a poet that Arnold was best known to his contemporaries however. His most famous work, The Light of Asia, published in 1879, went through numerous editions in England and America. It is an Indian epic, dealing with the life and teachings of Buddha. Not without its critics, the poem caused controversy amongst Buddhists and Christians alike; some Oriental scholars argued it gave a false impression of Buddhist doctrine, whilst the suggested analogy between Shakyamuni and Jesus offended many devout Christians. In response to this later criticism, Arnold attempted a second narrative poem, in which the central figure was Jesus, entitled The Light of the World (1891). This latter work had considerable poetic merit, but lacked the novelty of the earlier poem which gave it much of its attractiveness. Arnold’s other principal works were Indian Song of Songs (1875), Pearls of the Faith (1883), The Song Celestial (1885), With Sadi in the Garden (1888), Tiphar’s Wife (1892) and Adzuma or, The Japanese Wife (1893). Arnold was married three times in his life, sadly widowed twice. He was awarded the star of India in 1877, on the occasion of the proclamation of Queen Victoria of Empress of India, and was knighted in 1888. Arnold died on 24 March, 1904, aged seventy-one.

      THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.

      INTRODUCTION.

      OM!

      REVERENCE TO GANESHA!

      The sky is clouded; and the wood resemblesThe sky, thick-arched with black Tamâla boughs;O Radha, Radha! take this Soul, that tremblesIn life’s deep midnight, to Thy golden house.So Nanda spoke,—and, led by Radha’s spirit,The feet of Krishna found the road aright;Wherefore, in bliss which all high hearts inherit,Together taste they Love’s divine delight.

      He who wrote these things for thee,Of the Son of Wassoodee,Was the poet Jayadeva;Him Saraswati gave everFancies fair his mind to throng,Like pictures palace-walls along;Ever to his notes of loveLakshmi’s mystic dancers move.If thy spirit seeks to broodOn Hari glorious, Hari good;If it feeds on solemn numbers.Dim as dreams and soft as slumbers,Lend thine ear to Jayadev,Lord of all the spells that save.Umapatidhara’s strainGlows like roses after rain;Sharan’s stream-like song is grand,If its tide ye understand;Bard more wise beneath the sunIs not found than Govardhun;Dhoyi holds the listener stillWith his shlokes of subtle skill;But for sweet words suited wellJayadeva doth excel.

      (What follows is to the Music Mâlava and the Mode Rupaka.)

      HYMN TO VISHNU

      O thou that held’st the blessed Veda dryWhen all things else beneath the floods were hurled;Strong Fish-God! Ark of Men! Jai! Hari, jai!Hail, Keshav, hail! thou Master of the world!

      The round world rested on thy spacious nape;Upon thy neck, like a mere mole, it stood:O thou that took’st for us the Tortoise-shape,Hail, Keshav, hail! Ruler of wave and wood!

      The world upon thy curving tusk sate sure,Like the Moon’s dark disc in her crescent pale;O thou who didst for us assume the Boar,Immortal Conqueror! hail, Keshav, hail!

      When thou thy Giant-Foe didst seize and rend,Fierce, fearful, long, and sharp were fang and nail;Thou who the Lion and the Man didst blend,Lord of the Universe! hail, Narsingh, hail!

      Wonderful Dwarf!—who with a threefold strideCheated King Bali—where thy footsteps fallMen’s sins, O Wamuna! are set aside:O Keshav, hail! thou Help and Hope of all!

      The sins of this sad earth thou didst assoil,The anguish of its creatures thou didst heal;Freed are we from all terrors by thy toil:Hail, Purshuram, hail! Lord of the biting steel!

      To thee the fell Ten-Headed yielded life,Thou in dread battle laid’st the monster low!Ah, Rama! dear to Gods and men that strife;We praise thee, Master of the matchless bow!

      With clouds for garments glorious thou dost fare,Veiling thy dazzling majesty and might,As when Yamuna saw thee with the share,A peasant—yet the King of Day and Night.

      Merciful-hearted! when thou earnest as Boodh—Albeit ‘twas written in the Scriptures so—Thou bad’st our altars be no more imbruedWith blood of victims: Keshav! bending low—

      We praise thee, Wielder of the sweeping sword,Brilliant as curving comets in the gloom,Whose edge shall smite the fierce barbarian horde;Hail to thee, Keshav! hail, and hear, and come,

      And fill this song of Jayadev with thee,And make it wise to teach, strong to redeem,And sweet to living souls. Thou Mystery!Thou Light of Life! Thou Dawn beyond the dream!

      Fish! that didst outswim the flood;Tortoise! whereon earth hath stood;Boar! who with thy tush held’st highThe world, that mortals might not die;Lion! who hast giants torn;Dwarf! who laugh’dst a king to scorn;Sole Subduer of the Dreaded!Slayer of the many-headed!Mighty Ploughman! Teacher tender!Of thine own the sure Defender!Under all thy ten disguisesEndless praise to thee arises.

      (What follows is to the Music Gurjjarî and the Mode Nihsâra.)

      Endless praise arises,O thou God that liestRapt, on Kumla’s breast,Happiest, holiest, highest!Planets are thy jewels,Stars thy forehead-gems,Set like sapphires gleamingIn kingliest anadems;Even the great gold Sun-God,Blazing through the sky,Serves thee but for crest-stone,Jai, jai! Hari, jai!As that Lord of dayAfter night brings morrow,Thou dost charm awayLife’s long dream of sorrow.As on Mansa’s waterBrood the swans at rest,So thy laws sit statelyOn a holy breast. O, Drinker of the poison!Ah, high Delight of earth!What light is to the lotus-buds,What singing is to mirth,Art thou—art thou that slayedstMadhou and Narak grim;That ridest on the King of Birds,Making all glories dim.With eyes like open lotus-flowers,Bright in the morning rain,Freeing by one swift piteous glanceThe spirit from Life’s pain:Of all the three Worlds Treasure!Of sin the Putter-by!O’er the Ten-Headed Victor!Jai Hari! Hari! jai!Thou Shaker of the Mountain!Thou Shadow of the Storm!Thou Cloud that unto Lakshmi’s faceComes welcome, white, and warm!O thou,—who to great LakshmiArt like the silvery beamWhich moon-sick chakors feed upon By Jumna’s silent stream,—To thee this hymn ascendeth,That Jayadev doth sing,Of worship, love, and mysteryHigh Lord and Heavenly King!And unto whoso hears itDo thou a blessing bring—Whose neck is gilt with yellow dustFrom lilies that did clingBeneath the breasts of Lakshmi,A girdle soft and sweet,When in divine embracingThe lips of Gods did meet;And the beating heart aboveOf thee—Dread Lord of Heaven!—She left that stamp of love—By such deep sign be givenPrays Jayadev, the gloryAnd the secret and the spellsWhich close-hid in this storyUnto wise ears he tells.

      END OF INTRODUCTION.

      SARGA THE FIRST.

      SAMODADAMODARO.

      THE SPORTS OF KRISHNA.

      Beautiful Radha, jasmine-bosomed Radha,All in the Spring-time waited by the woodFor Krishna fair, Krishna the all-forgetful,—Krishna with earthly love’s false fire consuming—And some one of her maidens sang this song:—

      (What follows is to the Music Vasanta and the Mode Yati.)

      I know where Krishna tarries in these early days of Spring,When every wind from warm Malay brings fragrance on its wing; Brings fragrance stolen far away from thickets of the clove,In jungles where the bees hum and the Koil flutes her love;He dances with the dancers of a merry morrice one,All in the budding Spring-time, for ‘tis sad to be alone.

      I know how Krishna passes these hours of blue and goldWhen parted lovers sigh to meet and greet and closely holdHand fast in hand; and every branch upon the Vakul-treeDroops downward with a hundred blooms, in every bloom a bee;He is dancing with the dancers to a laughter-moving tone,In the soft awakening Spring-time, when ‘tis hard to live alone.

      Where Kroona-flowers, that open at a lover’s lightest tread,Break, and, for shame at what they hear, from white blush modest red; And all the spears on all the boughs of all the Ketuk-gladesSeem ready darts to pierce the hearts of wandering youths and maids;Tis there thy Krishna dances till the merry drum is done,All in the sunny Spring-time, when who can live alone?

      Where the breaking

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