The Slaying of Śiśupāla 11
English (machine translation) 11
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11.1
Pressing the fifth note strongly above its microtones, / constantly removing the second note, and splitting the fundamental tonic note, / the bards, their throats melodious with voice free from tremor, / announced to Mādhava the passing of the night as follows:
11.2
Scarcely had their pair of eyes closed, exhausted by the practice of passionate amorous play, / when the drum was struck loudly, / announcing the end of the night and breaking the sleep of loving women / with the impending separation.
Most clearly above the small form of the Pole Star / glitters this scattered circle of celestial sages, / like the large cart overturned in the childhood of the Bow-Handed One, / its front raised aloft by the thrust of his restlessly moving lotus-foot.
11.4
"Relieve the watchman!"—thus called aloud at every step / by someone saying "Awake!" to one desiring to sleep, / giving repeatedly a voice obscured by sleep and utter emptiness, / the man within does not awake.
11.5
Finding no space to lie down / upon the couch occupied by the expanse of his beloved's very broad hips, / the lord of her life, his drowsy stupor destroyed by love's exertion, / somehow passes the time; what can the night do?
11.6
Awakened after sleeping for a moment, contriving policies / in a kingdom great as an ocean and difficult to fathom, / kings, like poets, with minds clarified in the later part of the night, / reflect upon the dense collection of practical matters as upon poetic meanings.
11.7
Arisen from the edge of his bed upon the earth, / his massive body bathed in the mud of rutting fluid, / the rider, by shifting his flanks, / makes the lordly elephant lie down once more, sounding his foot-chain stirred by a gently moving hind leg.
11.8
Skilled with swifter hands, placing the churning-stick upon the wooden stand, / these cowherds produce deep sounds in the curds as if in water, / and churn the large jar, heavy as an ocean, / to draw out the essence, as the host of gods churned for the moon.
11.9
Feigning sleep and turned away without accepting conciliation, / hearing then the loud crowing of the cock at dawn, / the woman, turning around somehow, as if blinded by sleep, / embraces the lord of her life with her eyes barely open.
11.10
With flutes in harmony with lutes, / sweet, with flawless rhythm, sung repeatedly by bards for the sake of waking them, / hearing the flawless song, / the kings drift into slumber with their eyes pleasantly closed.
11.11
With ears and neck relaxed and eyes half-closed, / having enjoyed sleep for a moment, standing on all fours, / the horse, with exceedingly clever and moving lips and quivering nostrils, / wishes to chew again the grass scattered before him.
11.12
"He who attained his rise and radiant splendour in union with me— / that moon, going now to another woman [the western quarter], has fallen low, is it not so?" / Resembling the radiance of a smile, this bright glow shines forth as if indignant / from the woman that is the eastern direction.
11.13
Though having gone to sleep last, after attaining the joy of slumber from the fatigue of long lovemaking, / the young women awoke first, / and without moving their limbs, they did not break / the firm embrace of their beloveds' encircled arms.
11.14
Adorning the western quarter with rays fair as the severed root of a mature lotus, / which, having their whiteness altered, are reddened with redness / as if with saffron dust from the Malaya mountain, / the cool-rayed moon shines forth.
11.15
As a swarm of bees sings in a sweet hum, / the clusters of night-blooming water lilies and day-blooming lotuses assume a similar appearance— / the one possessing imperfect beauty with its petals drooping in closure, / and the other incomplete beauty with its petals expanding in bloom.
11.16
Now this mass of the white-rayed moon's beams slips away like a veil from the face / of the young woman that is Indra's quarter [the east], / which has acquired a flush of intoxication from the rising Aruṇa / and quickly casts off her long-retained modesty.
11.17
When the fire of passion of women, exhausted by ceaseless amorous play, / was subsiding in their weary bodies, / the morning breeze, having powdered them with the pollen of jasmines in secret, / rekindles it once more at dawn.
11.18
Having watched with eager curiosity, without a wink of sleep, all night long / the ceaseless, ever-new amorous play of the impassioned lovers, / this lamp-flame in the mansions, its light grown dim, / flickers unsteadily like an eye heavy with sleep.
11.19
Blinding the swarms of bees with the scent of blooming day-blooming lotuses / and perfumed with floral nectar, the wind blows softly, / skilled at wiping away the sweat of exhaustion from the passionate encounters / of women unruly in the intoxication of love and youth.
11.20
With agitated pupils, faces like wan moon-discs, / eyes like blue water lilies weary from lack of sleep, / and loosened tresses of hair resembling darkness, / these courtesans depart from the mansions of kings like the departing nights.
11.21
Having kept a rendezvous at day's end with her lover, the cool-rayed moon, / this night, scented with sweet breath, / now hurries away as if in haste, wearing the edge of her garment [the sky] / perfumed with the flawless ointment of his rays.
11.22
Having kept vigil through the night—which was charming to its very end— / due to playful laughter in the company of the splendorous, fresh bed of night-blooming water lilies, / this moon, weary and pale, with rays [hands] drooping, / wishing to sleep, lets himself sink into the lap of the western direction.
11.23
The garment which was stripped away in the middle of the night by the lover / gripped with eagerness to begin a passionate embrace, / is not wished to be returned at night's end / by the woman with tremulous eyes and broad hips like the wheels of a chariot.
11.24
"Alas! The night-blooming water lilies have closed at once, the night has reached its end, / and all the stars are gone!" / Thus lamenting for his beloved wives, the moon wears an emaciated body, / robbed of all splendour as though from grief.
11.25
Even before the sun comes within range of the eyes, / all the darkness is entirely destroyed by Aruṇa alone; / for when they display a fiery energy that overcomes adversaries, / even the herald is capable of swiftly annihilating the foe.
11.26
Before the male shelduck, weary of separation, can see the sky free from the mire of darkness / and flutter his wings, / the female shelduck, driven by longing, / has arrived from the opposite bank of the river.
11.27
Gladdening the minds of the youths, both equally displayed beauty at dusk— / the arranged garlands and the adorned young women; / but at dawn, the garlands, drained of lustre by enjoyment, / were surpassed by the young women radiant with fragrance.
11.28
Having ruffled clusters of day-blooming lotuses, scattered canopies of creepers, / and shaken down all the blossoms of trees in every grove, / this restless wind at last finds a resting place / inside the chambers fragrant with the crushed floral ornaments of young wives.
11.29
Visible in the nail-marks on the folds of the navel and waist, / and surviving in the bites of the teeth, / this leftover cosmetic paste of the woman, though voiceless, / became a vivid describer of the love-sports enacted even in secret.
11.30
With his dark mark laid bare and his beauty departed at dawn, / the moon appeared mocked by the cheeks of passionate women— / cheeks pale as ripe reeds, whose cosmetic leaf-patterns were wiped away, / yet having gained the radiant glow of lovemaking.
11.31
"Though all the ointment on your body was utterly smeared / by the passionate friction of lovemaking with another woman eager with desire, / this is indeed the greatest wonder in you, who are an abode of wonders: / that the colour of your face [the innocence of your expression] has not changed at all!"
11.32
"Fearing, 'Let not the other women clearly see this mark,' / your scratch of a fingernail, of the same hue as the red lac, / was surely protected on your body by your beloved / with the lac transferred by the stamp of the lotuses of her feet!"
11.33
"Truly indeed did you tell me: 'You are dear to me'— / since wearing the silk garment enjoyed by another woman, / you have come to my dwelling; / for the splendour of ornaments of passionate men attains fulfillment by being beheld by the beloved!"
11.34
"You hide your body with its fresh nail-marks under your garment, / and cover your lip bitten by teeth with your hand; / but by whom can the fresh, fragrant perfume spreading in every direction, / proclaiming your union with another woman, be concealed?"
11.35
Approaching one who had spoken such words, a fearful lover bows at her feet / as streams of tears fall from her eyes; / for weeping, though evoking pity, is a potent divine missile, / spoken of as the supreme weapon of women in disputes to break the pride of proud men.
11.36
In the chambers adorned with ornaments scattered during love's quarrels— / where the boldly displayed rashness of lovers in the height of passion was evident— / the female companions of the passionate women, their efforts at restoring decorum in vain, / do not lay out an offering of blooming flowers.
11.37
When a woman angrily suspected, through jealousy, that the nail- and tooth-marks on his body / had been inflicted in the night by another woman, / her gallant lover conciliated her as she grew bashful, saying: / "Do you really not remember that this was given by you yourself when you were intoxicated?"
11.38
When her husband, having broken her heavy pearl necklace during his embrace, / relaxed his limbs and asked permission to depart, / the pair of breasts of the woman seemed at that instant to weep, / shedding tears thick as fresh pearls.
11.39
"Indeed, intoxicated, I said so much in front of him, / and flattered him just like a bold, experienced woman!" / Reflecting thus on the night's events learned from her female friends, / the innocent bride was filled with shame during the day, her intoxication having passed away.
11.40
With delicate hands and feet of reddish lotus clusters, / and eyes of blue water lilies dark with collyrium of dense swarms of bees, / the newly born dawn, crying out with the chirping of birds, / follows close behind the night, like a daughter.
11.41
In every house of those who maintain the sacred fires, the unbroken fire, / once the foremost Adhvaryu priests have recited the Sāmidhenī verses in proper musical accents / and thereby destroyed a heavy flood of sins, / eagerly licks up the oblation mixed with boiled milk and curd.
11.42
The mouth of those engaged in the practice of muttering prayers, / its bright teeth repeatedly concealed by labial syllables and then revealed by others, / steadily imitates a lovely pearl-oyster shell / constantly closed and opened.
11.43
In the quarter of the Thunderbolt-Handed, the canopied expanse of rays / belonging to the maker of days shines, tawny like fresh gold, / as if it were the flame of the submarine fire of the great ocean surging upward, / having burned the waters to begin the world's conflagration.
11.44
Drawn up by the directions with rays like broad, outstretched ropes, / noisy with the clamour of restless birds calling, / this sun is hauled out from the midst of the ocean's waters / like a massive water jar.
11.45
Submerged deep within the water of the ocean at night, / he was surely heated incessantly by the flame of the submarine fire; / for now, as he rises, the sun wears this body / glowing red like the burning embers of khadira wood.
11.46
Not only the mountain of sunrise, but all the mountains, / as the hot-rayed sun momentarily mounts above them, / appear with his host of fresh rays to wear a crest / formed of distinct clusters of bandhūka blossoms.
11.47
Crawling upon the courtyards that are the peaks of the mountain of sunrise, / watched with smiles by the lotus ponds with open lotuses for their faces, / stretching out the tips of his soft rays, the morning sun playfully bounds / into the lap of the sky that calls to him through the birds.
11.48
Having rested for a moment with his rays planted upon the earth, / looking upon the world pleased at once and bent in obeisance, / the seven-horsed sun has risen from his seat on the mountain, / intent on inspecting the entire expanse of the earth.
11.49
Shedding the morning glow resembling matured wine, / the rivers, held back by both their banks, shine / as though bearing the blood of the troop of elephants that was darkness, / struck down in every direction by the sun with arrows of rays.
11.50
Falling through the latticed windows into the interiors of the mansions, / the rays of the young sun display the beauty / of red-hot iron shafts loosed by an angry god of love / upon the lovers of women who wish to depart at dawn.
11.51
This golden goblet, drunk empty of maireya wine by the wives during the night, / entered within by the light of the rising sun, red as rocanā pigment, / still appears even now to be full of wine just as before.
11.52
Left entirely behind at night upon the white bed, / its safflower brilliance now revealed by touch of the sun's rays, / a woman picks up her lover's upper garment at the day's beginning, / mistaking it for her own, while her friend laughs at her.
11.53
The palace, resembling a plateau on the silver mountain shining with crystal, / which during the nights seemed drenched in the rays of the cold-rayed moon, / is now reddened by the soft beams of the sun / and appears bathed in saffron water.
11.54
As a lover loosens the hair caught within fresh fingernail-scratches, / the glittering, fresh rays of the sun, / falling upon women's teeth revealed by hissing gasps, / produce the resemblance of rubies.
11.55
Smeared with saffron having the splendour of fresh blood, / transferred by the ceaseless embrace of the beloved's body, / the delicate form of loving women, like a streak on a golden touchstone, / keeps its splendour even in the sunlight.
11.56
Bearing a thousand rays and eyes, lover of lotus clusters, whose course is unswerving, / the cause of the power of sight, / the sun of green horses, like Hari, fully destroys darkness / which, like Vṛtra, has overwhelmed the whole world with immense greatness.
11.57
Arising to dispel the thick darkness, the shining sun / has forcibly banished that host of stars, lovely though it was; / for when one resolves to destroy an enemy, even those / who obtained splendour under his protection are included among those to be slain.
11.58
As the flood of rays reflects upon the wall of the silver mountain's ridge standing in front, / white like dense beams of the moon, / the hot-rayed sun pierces the dense mass of darkness, / striking it outside the mountain even though it has entered deep into the caves.
11.59
Even while playing outside, the rays of the maker of day / destroyed the darkness within houses as much as they pleased; / such is the nature of fiery energy: even if its scope of operation is confined, / its immense blazing majesty destroys all opposing forces.
11.60
Regaining his own splendour, this sun, for the sake of rising again, / breaks the door-leaves of the petals of the lotus / and swiftly breaks the prison, as it were, / of the bees held captive for a long time by their eager greed for nectar.
11.61
With a thousand rays, matching in number his uneven seven horses, / quickly opening all at once the thousand petals out of curiosity, / the sun seems to gaze eagerly upon Śrī, / who reposes in the mansion within the lotus, lulled by songs of bee swarms.
11.62
Having pitilessly crushed the hare-bearer moon at the beginning of day with the tips of his hands, / the passionate hot-rayed sun immediately scatters completely / into the interiors of the white lotuses / the essence of its splendour, pale like fresh water poured from a cloud.
11.63
While the sun, endowed with a thousand rays, expands like a second eye / illuminating the entire world for a long time, / the sky now appears, through the pale-rayed moon whose beams have faded, / to be disfigured, having one eye ruined.
11.64
The cluster of night-blooming water lilies is stripped of beauty; the lotus clump has gained splendour; / the owl abandons its joy; the shelduck attains delight; / the hot-rayed sun ascends to rising; the cold-rayed moon goes to setting. / Ah, wondrous is the fruition of the whims of accursed destiny!
11.65
Having sent a momentary hot splendour ahead, / as the sun approaches like a husband taking the hand of the brides of the directions, / this moon, his garment slipping off, / swiftly departs low down by the western horizon like a secret lover.
11.66
Having brought the entire realm of stars to dissolution at dawn, / possessed of unsurpassed splendour, maintaining his passionate glow, / the shining sun alone reposes upon the ocean of the sky / at the end of the night-kalpa, like the Foe of Madhu.
11.67
Having awakened the entire world, having dispelled the rising of darkness, / having destroyed the beauty of night-blooming lilies and stars, having separated lovers, / this master of the day, whose minor faults are overlooked because of the sight of his many virtues, / may he, O granter of boons, bring a fine dawn for you!
Commentaries (2)
- Sarvaṅkaṣā — Mallinātha Sūri, Sanskrit
- Śiśupālavadhaṭīkā — Mallinātha, Sanskrit
Linked texts (1)
- Śiśupālavadha — Māgha, Sanskrit