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The Birth of the War-God
EDITORS’ NOTE
In the first and third versions of this translation, Sri Aurobindo left some lines or parts of lines blank, apparently with the intention of returning to them later. Such incomplete portions are indicated by square brackets enclosing a blank of appropriate size.
The Birth of the War-God STANZAIC RENDERING OF THE OPENING OF CANTO I
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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 Measuring the dreaming earth in an enormous ease.
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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.
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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.
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Brightness of minerals on his peaks outspread In their love-sports and in their dances gives To heavenly nymphs adornment, which when drive Split clouds across, those broken hues displayed Like an untimely sunset’s magic glories live.
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Far down the clouds droop to his girdle-waist; And to his low-hung plateaus’ coolness won The Siddhas in soft shade repose, but run Soon glittering upwards by wild rain distressed To unstained summits splendid with the veilless sun.
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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 the dangerous passing show.
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The birch-leaves on his slopes love-pages turn; Like spots of age upon the tusky kings Of liquid metal ink their letterings Make crimson pages that with passion burn Where heaven’s divine Circes pen heart-moving things.
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He fills the hollows of his bamboo trees With the breeze rising from his deep ravines, Flutes from his rocky mouths as if he means To be tune giver to the minstrelsies Of high-voiced Kinnars chanting in his woodland glens.
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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 strong forest-wanderer when he lies Twined with his love, marrying with hers his sighs And from the dim banks luminous herbs give light, Strange oilless lamps to their locked passion’s ecstasies.
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Himaloy’s snows in frosted slabs distress The delicate heels of his maned Kinnaris, And yet for all that chilly path’s unease They change not their slow motion’s swaying grace [ ]
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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 guardian love and kindly might.
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The mountain yaks lift up their bushy tails And with their lashing scatter gleamings round White as the moonbeams on the rocky ground: They seem to fan their king, his parallels Of symbolled monarchy more perfectly to found.
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There in his glens upon his grottoed floors When from her limbs is plucked the raiment fine Of the Kinnar’s shamefast love, hanging come in His concave clouds across the cavern doors; Chance curtains shielding her bared loveliness divine.
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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.
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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.
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Because the Soma plant for sacrifice He rears and for his mass 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.
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Companion of Meru, their high floor, In equal wedlock he to his mighty 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.
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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.
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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.
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