Indian Poetry Part 4

Ah, silent one!

Sunk is the sun, The darkness falls as deep as Krishna's sorrow; The chakor's strain Is not more vain Than mine, and soon gray dawn will bring white morrow.

And thine own bliss Delays by this; The utmost of thy heaven comes only so When, with hearts beating And pa.s.sionate greeting, Parting is over, and the parted grow.

One--one for ever!

And the old endeavour To be so blended is a.s.suaged at last; And the glad tears raining Have nought remaining Of doubt or 'plaining; and the dread has pa.s.sed.

Out of each face, In the close embrace, That by-and-by embracing will be over; The ache that causes Those mournful pauses In bowers of earth between lover and lover:

To be no more felt, To fade, to melt In the strong certainty of joys immortal; In the glad meeting, And quick sweet greeting Of lips that close beyond Time's shadowy portal.

And to thee is given, Angel of Heaven!

This glory and this joy with Krishna. Go!

Let him attain, For his long pain, The prize it promised,--see thee coming slow,

A vision first, but then-- By glade and glen-- A lovely, loving soul, true to its home; His Queen--his Crown--his All, Hast'ning at last to fall Upon his breast, and live there. Radha, come!

_Come! and come thou, Lord of all, Unto whom the Three Worlds call; Thou, that didst in angry might, Kansa, like a comet, smite; Thou, that in thy pa.s.sion tender, As incarnate spell and splendour, Hung on Radha's glorious face-- In the garb of Krishna's grace-- As above the bloom the bee, When the honeyed revelry Is too subtle-sweet an one Not to hang and dally on; Thou that art the Three Worlds' glory, Of life the light, of every story The meaning and the mark, of love The root and, flower, o' the sky above The blue, of bliss the heart, of those, The lovers, that which did impose The gentle law, that each should be The other's Heav'n and harmony._

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

_SARGA THE SIXTH._

DHRISHTAVAIKUNTO.

KRISHNA MADE BOLDER.

But seeing that, for all her loving will, The flower-soft feet of Radha had not power To leave their place and go, she sped again-- That maiden--and to Krishna's eager ears Told how it fared with his sweet mistress there.

(_What follows is to the Music_ GONDAKIRi _and the Mode_ RUPAKA.)

Krishna! 'tis thou must come, (she sang) Ever she waits thee in heavenly bower; The lotus seeks not the wandering bee, The bee must find the flower.

All the wood over her deep eyes roam, Marvelling sore where tarries the bee, Who leaves such lips of nectar unsought As those that blossom for thee.

Her steps would fail if she tried to come, Would falter and fail, with yearning weak; At the first of the road they would falter and pause, And the way is strange to seek.

Find her where she is sitting, then, With lotus-blossom on ankle and arm Wearing thine emblems, and musing of nought But the meeting to be--glad, warm.

To be--"but wherefore tarrieth he?"

"What can stay or delay him?--go!

See if the soul of Krishna comes,"

Ten times she sayeth to me so;

Ten times lost in a languorous swoon, "Now he cometh--he cometh," she cries; And a love-look lightens her eyes in the gloom, And the darkness is sweet with her sighs.

Till, watching in vain, she glideth again Under the shade of the whispering leaves; With a heart too full of its love at last To heed how her bosom heaves.

_Shall not these fair verses swell The number of the wise who dwell In the realm of Kama's bliss?

Jayadeva prayeth this, Jayadev, the bard of Love, Servant of the G.o.ds above._

For all so strong in Heaven itself Is Love, that Radha sits drooping there, Her beautiful bosoms panting with thought, And the braids drawn back from her ear.

And--angel albeit--her rich lips breathe Sighs, if sighs were ever so sweet; And--if spirits can tremble--she trembles now From forehead to jewelled feet.

And her voice of music sinks to a sob, And her eyes, like eyes of a mated roe, Are tender with looks of yielded love, With dreams dreamed long ago;

Long--long ago, but soon to grow truth, To end, and be waking and certain and true; Of which dear surety murmur her lips, As the lips of sleepers do:

And, dreaming, she loosens her girdle-pearls, And opens her arms to the empty air, Then starts, if a leaf of the champak falls, Sighing, "O leaf! Is he there?"

Why dost thou linger in this dull spot, Haunted by serpents and evil for thee?

Why not hasten to Nanda's House?

It is plain, if thine eyes could see.

_May these words of high endeavour-- Full of grace and gentle favour-- Find out those whose hearts can feel What the message did reveal, Words that Radha's messenger Unto Krishna took from her, Slowly guiding him to come Through the forest to his home, Guiding him to find the road Which led--though long--to Love's abode._

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

_SARGA THE SEVENTH._

VIPRALABDHAVARNANE NAGARANARAYANO.

KRISHNA SUPPOSED FALSE.

Meantime the moon, the rolling moon, clomb high, And over all Vrindavana it shone; The moon which on the front of gentle night Gleams like the chundun-mark on beauty's brow; The conscious moon which hath its silver face Marred with the shame of lighting earthly loves:

And while the round white lamp of earth rose higher, And still he tarried, Radha, petulant, Sang soft impatience and half-earnest fears:

(_What follows is to the Music_ MaLAVA _and the Mode_ YATI.)

'Tis time!--he comes not!--will he come?

Can he leave me thus to pine?

_Yami he kam sharanam!_ Ah! what refuge then is mine?

For his sake I sought the wood, Threaded dark and devious ways; _Yami he kam sharanam!_ Can it be Krishna betrays?

Let me die then, and forget Anguish, patience, hope, and fear; _Yami he kam sharanam!_ Ah, why have I held him dear?

Ah, this soft night torments me, Thinking that his faithless arms-- _Yami he kam sharanam!_-- Clasp some shadow of my charms.