-20_Chapter-SixIndex-22_Second Rendering

-21_The Birth of the War God, Canto-1, First Rendering.htm

 

K A L I D A S 

KUMARASAMBHAVA

 

THE BIRTH OF THE WAR-GOD

Three Renderings

canto ONE: first rendering

 

                        1              

 A God mid hills northern Himaloy rears    

       His snow-piled summits' dizzy majesties,

       And in the eastern and the western seas

He bathes his giant sides; lain down appears

       Measures the dreaming earth in an enormous ease.

 

                           2

Him, it is told, the living mountains made

       A mighty calf of earth, the mother large,

       When Meru of that milking had the charge

By Prithu bid, and jewels brilliant-rayed

       Were brightly born and herbs on every mountain marge.

 

                              3

 So is he in his infinite riches dressed

        Not all his snows can slay that opulence.

        As drowned in luminous floods the mark though dense

On the moon's argent disc; so faints oppressed

        One fault mid crowding virtues fading from our sense.

 

                                 4

Brightness of minerals on his peaks outspread

         In their love-sports and in their dances gives

         To heavenly nymphs adornment, which when drive

The split clouds across, those broken hues displayed

         Like an untimely sunset's magic glories live.

 

                                   5

 Far down the clouds droop to his girdle-waist;

         And to this low-hung plateaus' coolness won

         The siddhas in soft shade repose, but run

Soon gleaming upwards by wild rains distressed

          To unstained summits splendid with the veilless sun. 

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                                   6

Although unseen the reddened footprints blotted

       By the new-fallen snows, the hunters know

The path their prey the mighty lions go;

       For pearls from the slain elephants there clotted

 Fallen from the hollow claws their dangerous passage show.

                               7

The birch-leaves on his slopes love-pages turn:

      Like spots of age upon the tusky kings

      Of liquid metal ink their letterings

Make crimsoned pages that with passion burn

      Where heaven's divine Circes pen heart-moving things                                          

                                8

He fills the hollows of his bamboo trees

      With the breeze rising from his deep ravines,

      Breathes1 from his rocky mouths as if he means

To be tune-giver to the minstrelsies

       Of high-voiced Kinnars chanting in his woodland glens

                                             9

His poplars by the brows of elephants

      Shaken and rubbed loose forth their odorous cream;

      And the sweet resin pours its trickling stream,

And wind on his high levels burdened pants

      With fragrance making all the air a scented dream.

 

                                          10

His grottoes are love-chambers in the night

      For the stray forest-wanderer when he lies

      Twined with his love, marrying with hers his sighs

And from the dim banks luminous herbs give light

      Strange2 oilless lamps to their locked passion's ecstasies. 

              1 Flutes       2 Like

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                                             11

           Himaloy's snows in frosted slabs distress    

                   The delicate heels of his maned Kinnaris

                   And yet for all their chilly path's unease

           They change not their slow motion's swaying grace

                   For their burden of breasts and heavy hips.

                                                                       

                                           12

             He guards from the pursuing sun far hid

                    In his deep caves of gloom the fallen night

                    Afraid of the day's eyes of brilliant light

             Even on base things and low for refuge fled

                    High-crested souls shed love and kindly might.

 

                                            13

             The mountain yaks lift up their bushy tails

                    And with their lashing scatter gleamings round

                    White as the moonbeams on the rocky groun

             They seem to fan their king, his parallels

                     Of symbolled monarchy more perfectly to found.

                       

                                             14

             There in his glens upon his grottoed floors

                      When from her limbs is plucked the raiment fine

                      Of the Kinnar's shame-fast love, hanging come in

             The concave clouds across the cavern doors;                                   

                      Chance curtains shielding her bared1 loveliness divine.

 

                       1 shield her unveiled

 

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                                               15

              Weary with tracking the wild deer for rest

                        The hunter bares his forehead to the fay

                         Breezes which sprinkle Ganges' cascade spray

                Shaking the cedars on Himaloy's breast,

                      Gambolling with the proud peacock's gorgeous-plumed array.

    

                                              16

    Circling his mountains in its path below

            The sun awakes with upward glittering wands                

            What still unplucked by the seven sages' hands

     Remains of the bright lotuses that glow

             In tarns upon his tops with heaven-kissing strands.

                                                17

Because the Somaplant for sacrifice

     He rears and for his strength1 upbearing Earth

     The Lord of creatures gave to this great birth

His sacrificial share and ministries

     And empire over all the mountains to his worth.

15. There rests the hunter weary of the chase

  And bares his forehead to the breeze which comes

With spray of Ganger' cascades on its wings,

 Scattering the peacock's gorgeous plumes abroad,

 Shaking the cedars on Himaloy's breast.

 

 16. In tarns upon its heaven-kissing tops

  Immortal lilies bloom the shining hands

 Of the Seven Sages pluck, a few still left

 Awake with morn to the sun's upward beams

 Circling those mountains on his lower path.

 

17. Because he rears for sacrifice the plant

Of honeyed wine, his sacred share fulfilled,

 And for his many strengths upbearing Earth

 The Father of the peoples' very hands

  Crowned him the monarch of a million hills.

¹mass

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                                                18

Companion of, Meru their high floor

In equal wedlock to his mighty1 bed

The mind-born child of the world-fathers wed,

Mena whose wisdom the deep seers adore,

Stable and wise himself his stable race to spread.

                                      19

Their joys of love were like themselves immense

And its long puissant ecstasies at last

Bore fruit, for in her womb a seed was cast

Bearing the banner of her youth intense

In moving beauty and charm to motherhood she passed.

 

                                              20

Mainac she bore, the ocean's guest and friend,

Upon whose peaks the serpent-women roam,

Dwellers in their unsunned and cavernous home;

Mainac, whose sides though angry Indra rend

Feels not the anguish of the thunder's shock of doom.

 

(Incomplete)

18. In equal rites he to his mighty bed

      The mind-born child of the world-fathers bore.

      Companion fit of Meru their high home,

      Stable of thought to stabilise his race,

      Mena the wise he wed by seers adored.

 

19. Their joys of love were like themselves immense

      And in long puissant ecstasy at last

      Bore fruit; for in her womb his seed was thrown

      And bearing like a banner with her youth's

      Heart-moving beauty motherhood she crossed.

 

  20. Mainac she bore, the guest of the great sea,

       Upon whose peaks the serpent women sport

       Who through the Titan slayer's wrath has shorn               

       His budding wings, felt not the fiery blow,

       Shook not with anguish of the thunder's scars.

               ' large 

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