Pramāṇa · Search · About · API

Obscure Religious Cults as Background of Bengali Literature c29: Appendix (E): Enigmatic Language of the Old and Mediaeval Poets

Obscure Religious Cults as Background of Bengali Literature c29

Language
English

Appendix (E): Enigmatic Language of the Old and Mediaeval Poets

c29.2

We have seen before that many of the religious movements, with which we have dealt, were esoteric in nature and it was quite in the fitness of things that the language in which the religious contents were given poetic expression was often extremely enigmatic. This enigmatic language of the old and mediaeval poetry is popularly styled as *Sandhyā-bhāṣā*, which, according to its conventional spelling, literally means ‘the evening language’,—and the word ‘evening’ here may be explained as pointing to the mystical nature of the language. In the Hindu as well as Buddhist Tantras, and in the Buddhist Dohās and songs, we find much use of this *Sandhyā-bhāṣā* and MM. H. P. Śāstrī has explained it as the ‘twilight language’, *i. e.*, half expressed and half-concealed (*ālo-amdhāri*). But MM. Vidhuśekhara Śāstrī in an enlightening article in the *Indian Historical Quarterly*¹ has demonstrated with sufficient evidences from authoritative texts that the language is not *Sandhyā-bhāṣā*, but is *Sandhā-bhāṣā* (*sam* + √*dhā*) or the ‘intentional language’, *i. e.*, the language literally and apparently meaning one thing, but aiming at a deeper meaning hidden behind. Reference to this word *Sandhā-bhāṣā* is found in many texts of Pāli Buddhism as well as in Sanskrit Mahāyāna texts. Warning has often been given not to interpret the sayings of Buddha literally, but one should sink deep into them to catch at the right meaning aimed at by the Lord, and we find that the Buddhist preachers, particularly of the esoteric schools, would often use this intentional language to which the faithful adepts only had access. The same device was adopted by all the esoteric schools within the province of Hinduism.¹

c29.3

¹ 1928, Vol. IV, No. 2

c29.4

¹ It may be incidentally noted here that Jesus Christ did also preach in a parabolic language (which also is nothing but a form of *Sandhā-bhāṣā*) to conceal the truth from the unbelievers like the scribes and the pharisees.

c29.5

With regard to the spelling of the word *Sandhā-bhāṣā* or *Sandhā-vacana* as *Sandhyā-bhāṣā* or *Sandhyā-vacana* MM. V. Śāstrī is of opinion that it is a mistake of ignorant scribes. But it may be noticed in this connection that the word has consistently been spelt as *Sandhyā* and not as *Sandhā* in all the manuscripts of the Buddhist Tantras. May it therefore be postulated that it is not a mistake pure and simple of the scribes; but through the enigmatic and technical nature of the language and because of the mystical nature of its contents, it acquired in time a secondary meaning of ‘twilight language’ from its original meaning of ‘intentional language’ and hence it is that it is spelt as *Sandhyā* by the scribes?

c29.6

The tradition of the use of enigmas to conceal the real meaning from the ordinary people is as old as the Vedas. We often meet with riddles in the *Ṛg-veda* and the *Atharva-veda*, ² which, when interpreted literally yield a meaning, which, as it is evident from the context, is not the real meaning. There are again statements in the ritualistic works known as the *Brāhmaṇas*, which give us no meaning literally; but the Pūrva-mīmāṃsakas discover important truth behind them with the help of metaphorical interpretation. But the use of technical *Sandhā-bhāṣā* became popular with the rise and development of the various Tāntric literature. The Sādhanā of the Tantras, be it Hindu or Buddhist, was generally a secret Sādhanā, and the best way to maintain the secrecy of the Sādhanā was to express the ideas and experiences of the Sādhakas with the help of technical and enigmatic language. The Tantras have, therefore, a language of their own which is accessible only to the initiated.

c29.7

² See *Ṛg-veda*, (1.164), (1.152.3), (10.55.5). (8.90.14), etc. *Atharva-veda*, (7.1), (11.8.10)

c29.8

The nature of the Sandhā-bhāṣā of the old Bengali Buddhist songs is not however exactly the same as that of the Sandhā-bhāṣā of the Tāntric literature. While the Tantras are full of technicalities, the songs are full of enigmas in addition to the technicalities.¹ Sandhā-bhāṣā of the Tantras generally means the infusion into some words of some technical meaning which is known only to the adept and to none else. It was the greatest sin on the part of a Tāntric to let the uninitiate into the secret of their cult, and this extreme technicality of the language, we have already pointed out, was taken as a device to prevent the public from making out anything of the secret of their cult. In the Hevajra-tantra there is a chapter on the Sandhā-bhāṣā where the Lord Vajra-sattva explains to Vajra-garbha the technical meaning of many such terms. In the eighteenth chapter of the Śrī-guhya-samāja also many such technical terms have been explained.²

c29.9

¹ But enigmas are also sometimes found in the Tāntric and Yogic texts. Cf. go-māṃsaṃ bhakṣayen nityam etc., Supra, p. 279.

c29.10

² See Hevajra-tantra, MS pp, 44(A)-44(B) and Śrī-guhya-samāja, edited by Dr. B, Bhaṭṭācārya (G.O. S.). See also the note on Sandhā-bhāṣā and Sandhā-vacana by Dr. P. C. Bagchi in the Studies in the Tantras, pp 27-33.

c29.11

The Caryā-songs of the Buddhist Siddhācāryas abound in technical terms; but more interesting are the enigmas. Couplets like—

c29.12

māria śasu naṇanda ghare śāli |
māa māria kāhna bhaia kavāli || ³

c29.13

³ For the literal meaning and the esoteric significance of this couplet see Supra Ch. III.

c29.14

are frequently to be met with in the Caryā-songs. The peculiarity of such imageries is that, when interpreted literally, they yield the most absurd meaning,—but when one obtains the key to them and learns to enter in, one gets at the true meaning hidden behind. Thus there is a poem of Kukkurī-pāda which runs as follows:—"When the two (teats) are milked (or when the tortoise is milked), it cannot be preserved in the pot; the tamarind of the tree is eaten by the crocodile. The front is near the house, harken lady of the nature of consciousness (biāti); the ear-ring (or the ornament of the ear) is stolen away in the middle of the night. The father-in-law falls asleep, the daughter-in-law awakes,—the thief has stolen away the ear-ring, where can it be searched? Even in the day-time the daughter-in-law shrieks in fear of the crow,—where does she go at night? Such a Caryā is sung by Kukkurī-pāda, and it has entered into the heart of only one among crores".¹

c29.15

¹ Song No. 2.

c29.16

Here the *two* refers to the two nerves on the right and the left; the substance milked is the *saṃvṛtti-bodhicitta* and the pot (*piṭa* = *pīṭha*) is the plexus named Maṇipura-cakra in the navel region. The tree (*rukha* = *vṛkṣa*) refers to the body, and the tamarind fruit is the semen in the form of Bodhicitta, and the crocodile (*kumbhīra*) is the yogic process of suspending the vital wind within (*kumbhaka*). *Biāti* and *Bahuḍi* refer to *Avadhutīkā*, and the house is the centre of purified bliss; the ear-ornament (*kāṇeṭa*) is the principle of defilement, and the thief is *sahajānanda*, and the mid-night is the yoga-stage just before the state of complete absorption in supreme bliss. The father-in-law (*susuṛā*) is the vital wind; day represents the active state (*pravṛtti*) of the mind, night the state of rest (*nivṛtti*) and *Kāmaru* may refer to Kāma-rūpa, or the Mahāsukha-cakra, Kāma-rūpa being the greatest centre of the Tāntrikas.

c29.17

The most remarkable fact is that this use of the enigmatic style has its unbroken history in the modern Indian literatures from the time of the Caryā-padas down to the present time. Esoteric poets of all periods have used such extremely epigrammatic and enigmatic style in giving expression to their religious doctrines. There is a song of Dheṇḍhaṇa pāda,—

c29.18

ṭālata mora ghara nāhī paḍivesī |
hāḍita bhāta nāhī niti āvesī ||
beṅga saṃsāra baḍhila jāa |¹
duhila dudhu ki beṇṭe samāa ||
balada biāla gaviā bāmjhe |
piṭā duhai e tinā sāmjhe ||
jo so budhī so dhani budhī |
jo so cora soi sādhi ||
niti niti siālā siha sama jujhaa |
dheṇḍhaṇa pāera gīta birale bujhaa ||

c29.19

¹ beṅgasa sāpa baḍhila jāa—Bagchi. ² For the inner significance see supra Ch, II.

c29.20

Literally the song means :—"On the height is situated my house, no neighbours have I; there is no rice in the pot, but they (guests) come every day. The frog-like world goes on increasing (or as Dr. Shahidullah and Dr. Bagchi reconstruct the line,—The serpent is being chased by the frog); does the milked milk enter into the teats again? The ox has given birth but barren is the cow; it is milked in the pot thrice a day. He who is wise is wise,—he who is the thief is honest. The fox fights with the lion every day,—understand this song of Dheṇḍhaṇa-pā in secret.."² With this poem we may compare a poem of Kabir, which is not only substantially the same, but it agrees with the above poem line by line.

c29.21

kaisaīṃ nagarī karaum kuṭavārī |
cañcala purisa bicaṣana nārī ||
baila biyā gāī bhai bāmjh |
bachrā duhai tiṇyuṃ sāmjh ||
makaḍo dhari māṣī chachī hārī |
mās pasārī cilha rakhavārī ||

c29.22

mūṣā khevaṭ nāv bilaiyā | miṃḍhak sovai sāpa paharaiyā || nita uṭhi syāl syaṃghasuṃ jhujhai | kahai kabīr koi biralā bujhāi || ¹

c29.23

¹ Kabīr-granthāvali, p. 113.

c29.24

“How can I guard the city where fickle is the man and clever is the woman ? The bull has given birth and barren is the cow; the calf is milked thrice a day. The spider has caught hold of the fly which struggles and is defeated; the kite has been kept guard for meat. The mouse is the boatman, the cat is the boat, and the frog is sleeping under the protection of the serpent. Everyday does the fox fight with the lion; says Kabīr, some understand it in secret.”

c29.25

Enigmatic poems of this nature are found abundantly in the works of Kabīr and these are generally known as the *Uḷtāvāṃsī*. These enigmas are generally employed by Kabīr to emphasise the absurdity that *Māyā* or the principle of illusion should so completely overpower the *Jīva*, who has his support in Brahman and who lives in Brahman in his ultimate nature; it is a pity that *Jīva* should become completely oblivious of his true nature and of his divine strength and act as a toy in the hands of *Māyā*. We are giving below a few more specimens of the enigmatic poems of Kabīr. In one poem Kabīr says,

c29.26

ek acṃbbau sunahu tum bhāi | dekhata siṃha carāvata gāi || jal kī machulī tarvar vyāi | dekhata kutrā lai gai bilāi || talere vaisā ūpar sūlā | tiskai peḍ lāge ṕkala phūlā || ghorai cari bhais carāvan jāi | bāhar bail goni ghar āi || kahata kabīr yo is pada bujhai | rām ramata tisu sav kichu sūjhai || ² “Hear of some thing strange, O my brother,—I have seen a lion tending a cow. The fish of water have given birth to the young ones upon the tree and while the dog was looking at, the cat took them away. There is something untoward beneath the tree and a trident on the top of it, and such a tree also bears fruits and flowers. Somebody rode on the horse and went to tend the buffalo; outside remained the bullock and the sack returned home. Says Kabīr, he who understands this poem, always dwells in Rāma and everything becomes clear to him.”¹

c29.27

² Ibid., pp. 304-305.

c29.28

¹ Cf. also Kabīr-granthāvali, Padāvali, No. 11, pp. 91-92.

c29.29

Again,—“Is there any wise Guru who can understand the Veda reversed? In water fire is burning and the blind is made to see. One frog makes a meal of five serpents and the cow has cut the lion into pieces and devoured it. The kid has devoured the tiger and the deer has eaten up the leopard; the crow has snared the fowler, the quail has triumphed over the hawk. The mouse has eaten up the cat, the jackal has eaten up the dog; this is the primal teaching, says wise Kabīr.²

c29.30

² hai koi jagat guru gyāmnīm ulaṭi beda bujhai | etc, Ibid., Padavali, 160, p. 141.

c29.31

Again it is said in another song,—

c29.32

O knower of Brahma, swing on.
Heavily, heavily the rain was pouring out, but never a drop of water fell,
To the foot of an ant an elephant was tied : the goat devoured the wolf.
From the midst of the sea came a waterfowl, demanding a spacious house.
The frog and the snake dwell together, and the cat is wedded to the dog.
Ever the lion joins battle with the jackal : here is a wonder that cannot be told.

c29.33

Doubt as a deer besets the forest of the body : the arrow aims at the archer.

c29.34

The ocean is burning and consumes the forest : the fish is angling for its prey, etc.¹

c29.35

¹ The Bijak of Kabir by Ahmad Shah, p. 119.

c29.36

We need not multiply the examples,—for poems of this nature are numerous in Kabīr. This enigmatic style became very popular also among the later Hindi poets. Thus in Sundar-dās we find as many as three different sections devoted entirely to the treatment of these enigmas.² It is said there,—" The blind see the three worlds and the deaf hear various sounds ; the man without nose smells the lotus and the dumb supplies much news. The broken-handed man lifts the mountain, the lame dances and makes merry; whoever will be able to make out the meaning of these lines, will be able to enjoy (bliss). The ant has swallowed the elephant, the fox has eaten the lion ; fish finds much comfort in fire—but becomes much perturbed in water. The lame man climbs upon the mountain, death is afraid at the sight of the dead ; these reverse pranks, O Sundar, are known to those who have realisation. The sea merges itself in the bubble; the mountain merges itself in the mustard seed; it has become a fun in the three worlds that the sun has made every thing dark. It is only a fool, O Sundar, who will be able to bring out the significance of it—this is a puzzle of words. Fish has caught hold of the crane and made a meal of it,—and the mouse has eaten the serpent ; the parrot has captured and devoured the cat and all affliction is pacified thereby. The daughter has eaten her mother, the son has eaten the father. Says Sundar, hear O saint, none of them commits sin thereby, etc.³

c29.37

² See Sundar-granthāvalī (Rajasthan Research Society edition) Vol, I. Atha Pūrabi Bhāṣā Barabai, pp. 377 et seq. Atha Biparyaya Śabda Ko Aṅg, Savaiyā, Vol. II, pp. (504 et seq) ; Sāṣī, Atha Biparyaya Kau Aṅg, Vol. II, pp. 787 et seq.

c29.38

³ Ibid., Vol. II, pp. 508-516. For an attempt at interpreting these lines see the commentary given in the said edition of the work.

c29.39

Enigmas are found abundantly in the Nāth literature all over India. Gorakh-nāth, in making his Guru Mina-nāth return to his senses, used this device of enigma and we came across many such enigmas in our previous discussion on the Nāth cult. These enigmas of Gorakh are still now popular as Gorakh dhāmdhām or the puzzles of Gorakh. It is said in the Gorakṣa-vijaya—" There is no water in the pond, yet why is it that the banks are over-flooded? There is no egg in the nest, how is it then that the young ones of the birds are flying above? There is no man in the city, but every house has its roof. The blind man is selling and the deaf man buys."¹ In the song of Gopi-candra we find, "Mind is the name of the tree, Rasika (he who is endowed with good taste) is the name of the fruit; the fruit of the tree remains on the tree, but the stalk falls down. If cut down, the tree grows on, if not cut down it dies out; one fruit of the two trees is conceived by the mother."² In the same text we find old Śiva worshipping a boat with a uḷṭā mantra or an enigmatic verse of a funny nature.³ Peculiar songs of this nature, often rousing the sense of the ludicrous, in the form of an address of Gorakh-nāth to his Guru Mina-nāth, are still prevalent in the rural areas of Bengal. The writer himself has heard many such stray songs in his native district of Bakergunj. The writer cannot check the temptation of presenting such a song collected by Maulavi Abdul Karim in the introduction to the *Gorakṣa-vijaya* edited by him.

c29.40

¹ Gorakṣa-vijaya, pp. (137-138). Cf. also:— śrāvaṇ māsate nadī maiddhete ujāe | auṭ hātera naukā bāhī chāli berāe || udur pāile śuā bilāī dharī khāe | gagana maṇḍale bāsā korila suyāe || etc. Ibid., p. 144.

c29.41

² Gopi-candrer Gān, Vol. I, p. 78.

c29.42

³ madhu gaṅgā-jal dila naukāe chiṭiyā | naukā puje buḍā śiv uḷṭā mantra kaiyā || āgun kyāman nāle brammā kyāman nāle | brammā beṭā maila jāre pāni maila tiyāse || ḍheki ānām dhān bānite seo pālāila āse | kulā ānām dhān jhāḍite pāḍiyā kilāy tuse || eluyā-bāḍi beluyā-bāḍi kāsiyā-bāḍi di ghaṭā | śiyālak dekhi janaoyār pālay hāsiyā maila pāṭhā || āge uvajila choṭa bhāi pāche uvajila dādā | kemo bemo kariyā māo uvajila pācheta uvaja bābā || etc. Ibid., Vol. I, p. 124.

c29.43

"O my preceptor, all the laws do I find topsy-turvy; rice is dried in the bottom of the pond and is served beneath the granary. O my preceptor, on the mango-tree lie the young ones of the *Śaula* fish and they catch hold of the crane and devour it up, and at the sight of it small ants are marching forward with a machine of bamboo (to catch fish). O my preceptor, with five annas have I brought the boat, nine pice is the price of the nail; in the arum forest did I keep it,—but a frog has swallowed up the seat of the helmsman. O my preceptor, one thing have I heard in the ghat of *Tripini*—a dead man is cooking food in the womb of a living man. O my preceptor, in the forest of *Erali* live the young ones of the *Karali* and the tigress went for them; and a flat frog is waiting to prey upon the tigress."'¹

c29.44

¹ *Guru mina-nāth re uḷtā uḷtā dhārā*, etc.

c29.45

It is indeed very difficult to attempt a thorough interpretation of these lines; but the most important point is the assemblage of all sorts of absurd epigrams, which are all put together to emphasise the absurdity that even a great self-controlled yogin like Mina-nāth should fall a prey in the hands of the women of Kadali. Again there are lines in these enigmas, which, though shrouded in obscurity, point to a deeper significance behind. Thus there is the line in the above poem that a dead man is cooking food in the womb of a living man in the ghat of *Tripini*. *Tripini* here stands for *Tri-beṇi* or the place where the three important rivers Gaṅgā, Yamunā and Sarasvatī, and in Tāntricism the three nerves, *viz.*, Iḍā, Piṅgalā and Suṣumṇā, meet together.

c29.46

When a yogin can control his nerves and can make the two side-nerves *Iḍā* and *Piṅgalā* function conjointly with the middle nerve, he becomes dead so far as the world of physical existence is concerned and that dead man within the physically living man matures from within all the virtues of the spiritual life.

c29.47

Almost a similar song is found in the *Dharma-maṅgala* of Sahadev Cakravartī and here also the song is addressed by Gorakh-nāth to his Guru Mīna-nāth. We are giving here rather a free translation of the verse :—

c29.48

O my Guru, I beg to submit to your lotus-feet this (strange) fact, the sea has overflown with the milk of worms and the mountains are floating away. O my Guru, try to understand it on your own merit,—dry was the tree, but it has shot forth foliages and stone has been pierced through by the worm. See here, the tigress is coming,—through the lids of his eyes man covers the tigress with (different) skin and then tames her in every house. Quarrel has broken out between the *Śilā* and the *Noḍā*,¹ and the mustard seed is intervening as the mediator,—the pumpkin gourd on the thatched roof is rolling down, and the herb *Puṃi* dies of laughing. An absurd tale it is,—the completely barren one has given birth, and the child wants milk of the dove. With much care have I tied the boat and the crab held the rope; by the kick of the mosquito the mountain is broken and the ant goes on laughing. First the boat flies above, and then it burns and dust is raised every now and then; there is not a drop of water to wet the mustard seed, but the peaks of the temples are drowned. I have yoked the tiger and the bullock together and the monkey has become the plough-man; the crocodile of water has removed the weeds and the mouse has sown paddy-seed. The young ones

c29.49

¹ *Śilā* is the slab of stone on which spice is rubbed and prepared and *Noḍā* is the rod-like stone with which spice is rubbed and prepared.

c29.50

of the *Śaula* fish are on the palm-tree, and they are catching hold of the hawks and devouring them; *Kai* fish revels in the water of the sea, and the lame one runs with a machine of bamhoo (to catch them). I have placed sentinels in the mid-sea, *Sajaki* (?) are flocking in abundance; the buffalo and rhinoceros die of fear and hinds flee away in lacs. The lamp is extinguished when there is oil in it,—and the city becomes dark; Sahadev meditates on Kalu Rāy and sings this clever description of the body."'¹

c29.51

¹ *Vide*, B.S.P.P., B.S. 1304. *Cf.* The German poem *I came A-riding* by Reinmar Von Eweter :--

c29.52

Songs of this type, which are still now to be heard in the rural areas, particularly of East Bengal, are generally known as the songs of the *Ulṭā Bāul*. Mr. Asutosh Chaudhuri of Chittagong has collected some of these songs from the district of Tippera and published them in the journal *Pāñca-janya*.² We are giving below the translation of two of these songs as specimen :—"Under the depth of sixty cubits of water is burning the straw of *Āman* rice, and the bird *Pheccuyā* is picking it up with its beak and eating fried paddy; the tiger and the wild buffalo are yoked together to the plough and the ant has pressed the ladder. One day, O brother, I went to the bank of the river *Meghnā*, and found the cat breaking the mast of the ship by scratch-

c29.53

² B. S. 1343, Autumnal Number, pp. (94-96).

c29.54

I came a-riding in a far countrie
On a blue goose, and strange things I did see.
There was a crow and hawk that in a brook
Fished many a swine; a falcon by a bear
Was hunted in the upper realms of air;
Midges were playing chess; and I did look
Upon a stag that span the fine silk thread;
A wolf was shepherd of the lambs that fed
In the willow tops; a cock caught in a trap
Three giants; and a coney trained a hound;
A crab raced with a dove and won a pound.
If this is true, an ass can sew a cap.
Translated by Jethro Bithell,

c29.55

ing. I went to the fields of the North and found the crane ploughing; and the *Tyāmrā* fish has swallowed up a very big *Boyāl*. When the boys of this house go to that house, dead rats serve them with blows of fists in the path; etc."' Again,—" ......In the marsh lives the kite and the dog lives in the tree; all the kites are devoured by the fish of the river *Rāma-dariyā*. In the northern marshes grass the hawks and the cows are flying in the air; the father was born on the day of the mother's marriage and the son was born two days after. The frog is dancing on the head of the serpent and the mongoose is laughing on; the buffalo is smoking the tobacco pipe, but small leeches are coughing. At the sight of the spade the black-smith flees away, the pond cuts the workman; the yoke has been placed on the shoulder of the ploughman and the cow is walking behind. Stone floats on the sea but the lightest of woods sinks down; water of the ebb-tide goes against the current,—and boats are steering men; etc."'²

c29.56

² Ibid., p. 95.

c29.57

The enigmatic style was a popular technique also with the Vaiṣṇava Sahajiyās and the Bāuls of Bengal. The *rāgātmika padas* (the poems where the doctrines of the love-religion are preached) of Caṇḍī-dās are full of technicalities and riddles. Thus it is said,—"The flower is placed on the fruit and smell remains on it, and on smell are placed these three letters, a riddle it is to understand. The fruit lives above the flower, and on that remains the wave; and on the wave remains the wave,—does any one know this secret?"³ Again,—"Keep your secret love always secret and have your desire satisfied. You must make the frog dance before the serpent and then only are you true lovers.

c29.58

¹ Ibid., p. 94.

c29.59

³ *phaler upare phuler basati* *tāhār upare gandha* | etc. Anthology of Caṇḍī-dās (Mr. N. Mukherjee's edition), Song No. 788.

c29.60

The skilful man, who can wreathe the peak of mount Sumeru with thread and can ensnare the elephant into the web of the spider, becomes eligible for such a secret love.”¹

c29.61

¹ Ibid., Song. No. 797. Cf. also:—

c29.62

From what is illustrated above it will be clear that the different modern Indian literatures grew not only under some common religious movements, but they show striking similarity even in form, technique and language. The enigmas of the Caryā songs, of Kabīr and Sundar-dās are substantially of the same nature as are found in the rural areas of Bengal even at the present day. The Sandhyā-bhāṣā or the Sandhā-bhāṣā thus becomes an all-Indian literary technique for giving expression to esoteric doctrines, and, as we have said, it has an unbroken history for centuries.

c29.63

kamal upare jaler basati
tāhate basila tārā |
tāhāder tāhāder rasik mānuṣ
parāṇe hāniche hārā ||
sumeru upare bhramar pasila
bhramar dhari(che) phul |
tāhāder tāhāder rasik mānuṣ
hārāyeche jāti kul ||
hariṇ dekhiyā beyādh palāy
kamal gela se bhṛṅga |
yamer bhitare ālaser basati
rāhute gilila candra ||
sumeru upare bhramar pasila
e-kathā bujhile ke |
caṇḍi-dās kahe rasik haile
bujhite pārive se ||
Ibid., Song No. 803.

c29.64

It may be noticed that Vidyāpati also composed a number of prahelikā songs; See Songs of Vidyāpati, edited by A. Vidyābhūṣaṇa and Ray K. N. Mitter, M.A., Bahadur.

Cites (7)