The Birth of Kumāra 2.29

2.29

tato mandāniloddhūtakamalākaraśobhinā |
guruṃ netrasahasreṇa nodayāmāsa vāsavaḥ ||

Then Indra turned his thousand glorious eyes.
Glancing like lilies when the soft wind sighs.
And in the Gods' behalf, their mighty Chief
Urged the Most Eloquent to tell their grief.
Then rose the Heavenly Teacher, by whose side
Dim seemed the glories of the Thousand-eyed,
And with his hands outspread, to Brahma spake.
Couched on his own dear flower, the daughter of the lake:—
"O mighty Being! surely thou dost know
The unceasing fury of our ruthless foe;
For thou dost see the secret thoughts that lie
Deep in the heart, yet open to thine eye;
The vengeful Tárak, in resistless might,
Like some dire Comet, gleaming wild affright,
O'er all the Worlds an evil influence sheds,
And, in thy favour strong, destruction spreads.
All bow before him;—on his palace wall
The Sun's first ray and parting splendour fall;
Ne'er could he waken with a lovelier glance
His own dear Lotus from her nightly trance;
For him, proud Fiend, the Moon no waning knows,
But with unminished full-orbed lustre glows.
He would not brook its crescent glory set
Amid the blaze of Siva's coronet.
How fair his garden, where the obedient breeze
Dares steal no blossom from the slumbering trees!
The wild wind checks his blustering pinions there.
And gently whispering, fans the balmy air;
While through the inverted year the Seasons pour,
To win the Demon's grace, their flowery store.
For him, the River-god beneath the stream,
Marks the young pearl increase its silver gleam.
Until, its beauty and its growth complete,