{"id":1441,"date":"2013-07-13T01:34:50","date_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:34:50","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/localhost\/?p=1441"},"modified":"2013-07-13T01:34:50","modified_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:34:50","slug":"75-the-tale-of-nala-vol-05-collected-poems-volume-05","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/01-works-of-sri-aurobindo\/01-sabcl\/05-collected-poems-volume-05\/75-the-tale-of-nala-vol-05-collected-poems-volume-05","title":{"rendered":"-75_The Tale of Nala.htm"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n
\n
\n

\n
\nThe Tale of <\/font>
\nNala<\/font><\/span><\/b><\/span> <\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n\n\n
\n

 <\/td>\n

\n
\n

\n
\nN<\/font>ala<\/span> Nishadha’s<\/span> king, paced
\nby a stream
\nWhich ran escaping from solitudes
\nTo flow through gardens in a pleasant land.
\nMurmuring it came of the green souls of hills
\nAnd of the lawns and hamlets it had seen,
\nThe brown-limbed peasants toiling in the sun,
\nAnd the tired bullocks in the thirsty fields.
\nIn its bright talk and laughter it recalled
\nThe moonlight and the lapping dangerous tongues,
\nThe sunlight and the skimming wings of birds,
\nAnd gurgling jars, and bright bathed limbs of girls
\nAt morning, and its noons and lonely eves.
\nThis memory to the jasmine trees it sang
\nWhich dropped their slow white-petalled kisses down
\nUpon its haste of curling waves. Far off
\nA mountain rose, alone and purple vague,
\nWide-watching from its large stone-lidded eye
\nThe drowsy noontide earth; vastly outspread
\nLike Vindhya<\/span> changed, against the height of heaven
\nIt stood. And on the deep-blue nearness limned
\nIts shoulder in a mighty indolence
\nReclined for giant rest the Titan paused.
\nThe birds were voiceless on the unruffled boughs,
\nThe spotted lizard in a dull-eyed ease
\nBasked on his sentinel stone, a single kite
\nCircled above; white-headed over rust
\nOf brown and gold he stained the azure noon.
\nSolitary in the spaces of his mind
\nAmong these sights and sounds King Nala<\/span> paced
\nOblivious of the joy of world and kind.
\nShrill and dissatisfied the wanderer’s cry
\nCame to his ear; he saw with absent eye
\nThe rapid waters in their ripple run
\nNor marked the ruddy sprouting of the leaves,
\nNor heard the dove’s rare cooing on the trees.
\nHis thoughts were with a face his dreams had seen
\nDiviner than the jasmine’s moon-flaked glow;
\nHe listened to a name his dreams had known <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage \u2013 335<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nSweeter
\nthan passion of the crooning bird.
\nThe delicate syllables yearning through his mind
\nRepeated longingly their soft-wreathed call,
\nAs if some far-off bright forgotten queen
\nFrom whom his heart had wandered through the world
\nWere summoning back to her her<\/span> truant thrall,
\nLuring it with the music of her name,
\nSome sovereign magic face of amber pearled,
\nSome spirit embodied in a moon-gold flame.
\nBut now a look on him he seemed to feel.
\nThe summit self-uplifted to the sky
\nMounting the air in act to climb and join
\nHeaven’s sapphire longing with earth’s green unease
\nDrew his far gaze, which scanned as for a thought
\nThe undecipherable charactery<\/span>
\nOf mingled rocks and woods; but all was lost
\nIn too much light. Dull glared the giant stones;
\nThe woods, fallen sleepy on their mountain couch,
\nHad nestled in a coverlet of haze.
\nLike dim-seen shapes of virgins stoled<\/span> in blue
\nHuddling close-limbed the slumberers<\/span> lay.1<\/sup>
\nThen from some covert bosom’s shrouded riches
\nA revelation came; for like a gleam
\nOf beauty from some purple-guarded breast
\nA passionate glint of lovely whiteness stole
\nFluttering awhile, then fast towards him fled
\nSeeking his vision; and its glowing race
\nSplintered the sapphire with a silvery hue,
\nAnd soon a flame-bright flock of swans was seen
\nFlying like one and breasting with its shock
\nOf faery speed the vastness of the noon.
\nNot only with an argent flashing ran
\nThe brilliant cohort on its skiey<\/span> path,
\nBut shaking from its wild wings a hail of gold.
\nHeaven’s lustrous tunic of transparent air
\nRegretted the bright ornament as they passed.
\nThey flew not like the snowy cranes, a wreath
\nOf flowers driven in the rain-tide’s breath,<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

1 <\/sup>
\nTogether clasped
\nin a huddled grace
\nSleeping close-limbed the mystic slumberers<\/span> lay.<\/font><\/span> <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage \u2013 336<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nWhen
\nthunder calls them northward, but came fast
\nRanked in magnificent and lovely lines
\nCleaving the air with splendour<\/span>. All the pride
\nAnd rushing glory of their bosoms and wings
\nAssailed his eyes with silver and with flame.
\nOver the Nishadhan<\/span> gardens flying round
\nThey came down whirring softly. Filling awhile
\nWith gentle clamour from their liquid throats
\nThe region, they disturbed with dipping plumes
\nThe turquoise slumber of the motionless lake
\nLulled to unrippling<\/span> rest by windless noon.
\nA hundred marvellous shapes in mystic crowd
\nCovered the water like a living robe.
\nNow on the stream were spread their glorious breasts.
\nEach close-ranked by her sweet companion’s side
\nFloating they came and preened above the flood
\nTheir long and stately necks like curving flowers.
\nThe water petted with enamoured<\/span> waves
\nTheir bosoms and the slow air swooned along
\nTheir wings, their motion set a wordless chant
\nTo flow against the chidings of the stream.
\nA song from heaven was that gliding grace
\nAnd hard to speak their beauty, what silver mass
\nOn mass, what flakes and peacock eyes of gold,
\nWhat passion of crimson flecked each pure white breast!
\nIt seemed to his charmed sense that in this form
\nThe loveliness of a diviner world
\nHad come to him winged. Tbyir<\/span> beauty to tender greed
\nMoved him of all that living silver and gold.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

"For
\nnow thy heaven-born pride must learn to range
\nMy gardens of the earth and haunt my streams,
\nAnd to my call consent. If thou resist
\nI will imprison thee in a golden cage
\nAnd bind thy beauty with a silver chain."
\nA laughter beautiful arose from her
\nThrilling her throat with bubbling ecstasies,
\nSweet, satisfied because he praised her grace. <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage \u2013 337<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nAnd
\nwith mysterious mild deep-glowing eyes
\nIn long and softly wreathing syllables
\nThe wonder spoke: "Release me, for no birds
\nAre we, 0 mortal, but the moon-bosomed nymphs
\nWho to the trance-heard music of the gods
\nSway in the mystic dances of the sky,
\nApsaras, daughters of the tumbling seas.
\nShaped by thy fancy is my white-winged form."
\nBut Nala<\/span> to his bright prisoner swan replied:
\n"And now thou choosest<\/span> thyself by all thy words,
\nMy divine captive and white-bosomed slave,
\nBird of desire or goddess luminous-limbed
\nTo satisfy my pride and my delight
\nThou stoopst<\/span> to me from unattainable heavens.
\nThou shalt possess my streams, 0 white-winged swan,
\nAnd dance, 0 Apsara<\/span> singing in my halls.
\nBetween the illumined pillars thou shalt glide
\nWhen flute and breathing lyre and timbrel<\/span> call,
\nAdorning with thy golden rhythmic limbs
\nThe crystalline mosaic of my floors.
\nWhat I have seized by force, by force I keep."
\nHer eyes now smiled on him; against his bosom
\nShe laid in all its. tender curving grace
\nThe long white wonder of her neck upraised
\nIn suppliant wreaths and flattering his cheek
\nWith her soft gleaming head sweetly she cried:
\n"Because thou art bright and beautiful and bold,
\nSo have I come to thee and thou hast seized
\nWhom if thou hadst<\/span> set free, thy joy were lost,
\nSo in thy mind from some celestial space
\nA name and face have come, yet are on earth,
\nWhich if thou hadst<\/span> not held with yearning’s stays,
\nThy mortal life would have been given in vain.
\nForced by thy musing in the sapphire noon
\nOut of the mountain’s breast to thee I flew."<\/p>\n

(Incomplete)<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage \u2013 338<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/td>\n

\n

 <\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The Tale of Nala     Nala Nishadha’s king, paced by a stream Which ran escaping from solitudes To flow through gardens in a pleasant…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[32],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1441","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-05-collected-poems-volume-05","wpcat-32-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1441","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1441"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1441\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1441"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1441"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1441"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}