Indian Poetry Part 2

While gained for ever, I shall dare to grow Life to life with him, in the realms divine; And--Love's large cup at happy overflow, Yet ever to be filled--his eyes and mine Will meet in that glad look, when Time's great gate Closes and shuts out Fate.

_Listen to the unsaid things Of the song that Radha sings, For the soul draws near to bliss, As it comprehendeth this.

I am Jayadev, who write All this subtle-rich delight For your teaching. Ponder, then, What it tells to G.o.ds and men.

Err not, watching Krishna gay, With those brown girls all at play; Understand how Radha charms Her wandering lover to her arms, Waiting with divinest love Till his dream ends in the grove._

For even now (she sang) I see him pause, Heart-stricken with the waste of heart he makes Amid them;--all the bows of their bent brows Wound him no more: no more for all their sakes Plays he one note upon his amorous lute, But lets the strings lie mute.

Pensive, as if his parted lips should say--

"My feet with the dances are weary, The music has dropped from the song, There is no more delight in the lute-strings, Sweet Shadows! what thing has gone wrong?

The wings of the wind have left fanning The palms of the glade; They are dead, and the blossoms seem dying In the place where we played.

"We will play no more, beautiful Shadows!

A fancy came solemn and sad, More sweet, with unspeakable longings, Than the best of the pleasures we had: I am not now the Krishna who kissed you; That exquisite dream,-- The Vision I saw in my dancing-- Has spoiled what you seem.

"Ah! delicate phantoms that cheated With eyes that looked lasting and true, I awake,--I have seen her,--my angel-- Farewell to the wood and to you!

Oh, whisper of wonderful pity!

Oh, fair face that shone!

Though thou be a vision, Divinest!

This vision is done."

(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda ent.i.tled_ KLESHAKESHAVO.)

_SARGA THE THIRD._

MUGDHAMADHUSUDANO.

KRISHNA TROUBLED.

Thereat,--as one who welcomes to her throne A new-made Queen, and brings before it bound Her enemies,--so Krishna in his heart Throned Radha; and--all treasonous follies chained-- He played no more with those first play-fellows: But, searching through the shadows of the grove For loveliest Radha,--when he found her not, Faint with the quest, despairing, lonely, lorn, And pierced with shame for wasted love and days, He sate by Jumna, where the canes are thick, And sang to the wood-echoes words like these:

(_What follows is to the Music_ GURJJARi _and to the Mode_ YATI)

Radha, Enchantress! Radha, queen of all!

Gone--lost, because she found me sinning here; And I so stricken with my foolish fall, I could not stay her out of shame and fear; She will not hear; In her disdain and grief vainly I call.

And if she heard, what would she do? what say?

How could I make it good that I forgot?

What profit was it to me, night and day, To live, love, dance, and dream, having her not?

Soul without spot!

I wronged thy patience, till it sighed away.

Sadly I know the truth. Ah! even now Remembering that one look beside the river, Softer the vexed eyes seem, and the proud brow Than lotus-leaves when the bees make them quiver.

My love for ever!

Too late is Krishna wise--too far art thou!

Yet all day long in my deep heart I woo thee, And all night long with thee my dreams are sweet; Why, then, so vainly must my steps pursue thee?

Why can I never reach thee, to entreat, Low at thy feet, Dear vanished Splendour! till my tears subdue thee?

Surpa.s.sing One! I knew thou didst not brook Half-hearted wors.h.i.+p, and a love that wavers; Haho! there is the wisdom I mistook, Therefore I seek with desperate endeavours; That fault dissevers Me from my heaven, astray--condemned--forsook!

And yet I seem to feel, to know, thee near me; Thy steps make music, measured music, near: Radha! my Radha! will not sorrow clear me?

s.h.i.+ne once! speak one word pitiful and dear!

Wilt thou not hear?

Canst thou--because I did forget--forsake me?

Forgive! the sin is sinned, is past, is over; No thought I think shall do thee wrong again; Turn thy dark eyes again upon thy lover Bright Spirit! or I perish of this pain.

Loving again!

In dread of doom to love, but not recover.

_So did Krishna sing and sigh By the river-bank; and I, Jayadev of Kinduvilva, Resting--as the moon of silver Sits upon the solemn ocean-- On full faith, in deep devotion; Tell it that ye may perceive How the heart must fret and grieve; How the soul doth tire of earth, When the love from Heav'n hath birth._

For (sang he on) I am no foe of thine, There is no black snake, Kama! in my hair; Blue lotus-bloom, and not the poisoned brine, Shadows my neck; what stains my bosom bare, Thou G.o.d unfair!

Is sandal-dust, not ashes; nought of mine.

Makes me like s.h.i.+va that thou, Lord of Love!

Shouldst strain thy string at me and fit thy dart; This world is thine--let be one breast thereof Which bleeds already, wounded to the heart With lasting smart, Shot from those brows that did my sin reprove.

Thou gavest her those black brows for a bow Arched like thine own, whose pointed arrows seem Her glances, and the underlids that go-- So firm and fine--its string? Ah, fleeting gleam!

Beautiful dream!

Small need of Kama's help hast thou, I trow,

To smite me to the soul with love;--but set Those arrows to their silken cord! enchain My thoughts in that loose hair! let thy lips, wet With dew of heaven as bimba-buds with rain, Bloom precious pain Of longing in my heart; and, keener yet,

The heaving of thy lovely, angry bosom, Pant to my spirit things unseen, unsaid; But if thy touch, thy tones, if the dark blossom Of thy dear face, thy jasmine-odours shed From feet to head, If these be all with me, canst thou be far--be fled?

_So sang he, and I pray that whoso hears The music of his burning hopes and fears, That whoso sees this vision by the River Of Krishna, Hari, (can we name him ever?) And marks his ear-ring rubies swinging slow, As he sits still, unheedful, bending low To play this tune upon his lute, while all Listen to catch the sadness musical; And Krishna wotteth nought, but, with set face Turned full toward Radha's, sings on in that place; May all such souls--prays Jayadev--be wise To lean the wisdom which hereunder lies._

(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda ent.i.tled_ MUGDHAMADHUSUDANO.)

_SARGA THE FOURTH._

SNIGDHAMADHUSUDANO.

KRISHNA CHEERED.

Then she whom Radha sent came to the canes-- The canes beside the river where he lay With listless limbs and spirit weak from love;-- And she sang this to Krishna wistfully:

(_What follows is to the Music_ KARNaTA _and the Mode_ EKATaLi.)