Translations of Shakuntala and Other Works

Beyond, the province of Ten Cities lies Whose women, charming with their glances rash, Will view thine image with bright, eager eyes, Dark eyes that dance beneath the lifted lash, As when black bees round nodding jasmine-blossoms flash.

The Hallowed Land, where were fought the awful battles of the ancient epic time.

Then veil the Hallowed Land in cloudy shade; Visit the field where to this very hour Lie bones that sank beneath the soldier's blade, Where Arjuna discharged his arrowy shower On men, as thou thy rain-jets on the lotus-flower.

Sweet friend, drink where those holy waters shine Which the plough-bearing hero—loath to fight His kinsmen—rather drank than sweetest wine With a loving bride's reflected eyes alight; Then, though thy form be black, thine inner soul is bright.

The Ganges River, which originates in heaven. Its fall is broken by the head of Shiva, who stands on the Himalaya Mountains; otherwise the shock would be too great for the earth. But Shiva's goddess-bride is displeased.

Fly then where Ganges o'er the king of mountains Falls like a flight of stairs from heaven let down For the sons of men; she hurls her billowy fountains Like hands to grasp the moon on Shiva's crown And laughs her foamy laugh at Gauri's jealous frown.

The dark cloud is permitted to mingle with the clear stream of Ganges, as the muddy Jumna River does near the city now called Allahabad.

If thou, like some great elephant of the sky, Shouldst wish from heaven's eminence to bend And taste the crystal stream, her beauties high— As thy dark shadows with her whiteness blend— Would be what Jumna's waters at Prayaga lend.

The magnificent Himalaya range.

Her birth-place is Himalaya's rocky crest Whereon the scent of musk is never lost, For deer rest ever there where thou wilt rest Sombre against the peak with whiteness glossed, Like dark earth by the snow-white bull of Shiva tossed.

If, born from friction of the deodars, A scudding fire should prove the mountain's bane, Singeing the tails of yaks with fiery stars, Quench thou the flame with countless streams of rain— The great have power that they may soothe distress and pain.

If mountain monsters should assail thy path With angry leaps that of their object fail, Only to hurt themselves in helpless wrath, Scatter the creatures with thy pelting hail— For who is not despised that strives without avail?

Bend lowly down and move in reverent state Round Shiva's foot-print on the rocky plate With offerings laden by the saintly great; The sight means heaven as their eternal fate When death and sin are past, for them that faithful wait.

The breeze is piping on the bamboo-tree; And choirs of heaven sing in union sweet O'er demon foe of Shiva's victory; If thunders in the caverns drumlike beat, Then surely Shiva's symphony will be complete.

The mountain pass called the Swan-gate.

Pass by the wonders of the snowy slope; Through the Swan-gate, through mountain masses rent To make his fame a path by Bhrigu's hope In long, dark beauty fly, still northward bent, Like Vishnu's foot, when he sought the demon's chastisement.

And at Mount Kailasa, the long journey is ended;

Seek then Kailasa's hospitable care, With peaks by magic arms asunder riven, To whom, as mirror, goddesses repair, So lotus-bright his summits cloud the heaven, Like form and substance to God's daily laughter given.

Like powder black and soft I seem to see Thine outline on the mountain slope as bright As new-sawn tusks of stainless ivory; No eye could wink before as fair a sight As dark-blue robes upon the Ploughman's shoulder white.

Should Shiva throw his serpent-ring aside And give Gauri his hand, go thou before Upon the mount of joy to be their guide; Conceal within thee all thy watery store And seem a terraced stairway to the jewelled floor.

I doubt not that celestial maidens sweet With pointed bracelet gems will prick thee there To make of thee a shower-bath in the heat; Frighten the playful girls if they should dare To keep thee longer, friend, with thunder's harshest blare.

Drink where the golden lotus dots the lake; Serve Indra's elephant as a veil to hide His drinking; then the tree of wishing shake, Whose branches like silk garments flutter wide: With sports like these, O cloud, enjoy the mountain side

for on this mountain is the city of the Yakshas.