bhaja govindaM verse 7

[Guest guest]

baalastaavat kriiDaa saktaH

taruNastaavat taruNii saktaH .

vR^iddhastaavachchintaasaktaH

pare brahmaNi ko.api na saktaH .. 7..

 

##baalaH## \ = young boy;

##taavat.h## \ = till then;

##kriiDaa## \ = play;

##saktaH## \ = attached;

##taruNaH## \ = young man;

##taavat.h## \ = till then;

##taruNii## \ = young woman;

##saktaH## \ = engrossed;

##vR^iddhaH## \ = old man;

##taavat.h## \ = till then;

##chintaa## \ = worry;

##saktaH## \ = attached/engrossed;

##pare## \ = in the lofty;high;supreme;

##brahmaNi## \ = Brahman.h ;

##ko.api## \ = whosoever;

##na## \ = not;

##saktaH## \ = engrossed;

 

The childhood is lost by attachment to playfulness. Youth is lost by

attachment to woman. Old age passes away by thinking over many

things. But there is hardly anyone who wants to be lost in

parabrahman.

 

For more than a decade, in the childhood, play and games

take away our time. Toys soon become a past memory and

youth comes with thoughts of passion and lust. Charmed

by the looks (and forgetting the verse 3 of Bhaja govindam),

youth is lost in the arms of Cupid. Energy and power is lost

and man becomes old. But attachment and worries do not

decrease. The infirm body still clings to hope and despair,

and has an excess of tortous thoughts. Primarly due to the

inability to control the mind when the body was young and firm.

Every one has to die soon but we spend the entire life in this

way ! Isn't this a tradegy worth pondering over ?

 

Unless one gives up lust, greed and becomes a sannyasa, there

is no hope of liberation but we find there is hardly anyone

who wants to be lost in parabrahman !!

[Guest guest]

At 05:44 PM 3/9/99 +0530, you wrote:

>Giridhar <giridhar

>

>baalastaavat kriiDaa saktaH

>taruNastaavat taruNii saktaH .

>vR^iddhastaavachchintaasaktaH

>pare brahmaNi ko.api na saktaH .. 7..

 

 

Who is thy wife? Who is thy son?

The ways of this world are strange indeed.

Whose art thou? Whence art thou come?

Vast is thy ignorance, my beloved.

Therefore ponder these things and worship the Lord.

 

Behold the folly of Man:

In childhood busy with his toys,

In youth bewitched by love,

In age bowed down with cares--

And always unmindful of the Lord!

The hours fly, the seasons roll, life ebbs,

But the breeze of hope blows continually in his heart.

 

Birth brings death, death brings rebirth:

This evil needs no proof.

Where then O Man, is thy happiness?

This life trembles in the balance

Like water on a lotus-leaf--

And yet the sage can show us, in an instant,

How to bridge this sea of change.

 

When the body is wrinkled, when the hair turns grey,

When the gums are toothless, and the old man's staff

Shakes like a reed beneath his weight,

The cup of his desire is still full.

 

Thy son may bring thee suffering,

Thy wealth is no assurance of heaven:

Therefore be not vain of thy wealth,

Or of thy family, or of thy youth--

All are fleeting, all must change.

Know this and be free.

Enter the joy of the Lord.

 

Seek neither peace nor strife

with kith or kin, with friend or foe.

O beloved, if thou wouldst attain freedom,

Be equal unto all.

 

.... Shankara, Moha Mudgaram

 

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[Guest guest]

What a beautiful poem-ization indeed. I loved it. As ever so often, I find

poetic medium a very effective communicator. Thanks for posting this poem.

 

Prabhakar Chitrapu

 

> ----------

> Tim Gerchmez[sMTP:fewtch]

> Reply advaitin

> Tuesday, March 09, 1999 7:59 PM

> advaitin

> Re: bhaja govindaM verse 7

>

> Tim Gerchmez <fewtch

>

> At 05:44 PM 3/9/99 +0530, you wrote:

> >Giridhar <giridhar

> >

> >baalastaavat kriiDaa saktaH

> >taruNastaavat taruNii saktaH .

> >vR^iddhastaavachchintaasaktaH

> >pare brahmaNi ko.api na saktaH .. 7..

>

>

> Who is thy wife? Who is thy son?

> The ways of this world are strange indeed.

> Whose art thou? Whence art thou come?

> Vast is thy ignorance, my beloved.

> Therefore ponder these things and worship the Lord.

>

> Behold the folly of Man:

> In childhood busy with his toys,

> In youth bewitched by love,

> In age bowed down with cares--

> And always unmindful of the Lord!

> The hours fly, the seasons roll, life ebbs,

> But the breeze of hope blows continually in his heart.

>

> Birth brings death, death brings rebirth:

> This evil needs no proof.

> Where then O Man, is thy happiness?

> This life trembles in the balance

> Like water on a lotus-leaf--

> And yet the sage can show us, in an instant,

> How to bridge this sea of change.

>

> When the body is wrinkled, when the hair turns grey,

> When the gums are toothless, and the old man's staff

> Shakes like a reed beneath his weight,

> The cup of his desire is still full.

>

> Thy son may bring thee suffering,

> Thy wealth is no assurance of heaven:

> Therefore be not vain of thy wealth,

> Or of thy family, or of thy youth--

> All are fleeting, all must change.

> Know this and be free.

> Enter the joy of the Lord.

>

> Seek neither peace nor strife

> with kith or kin, with friend or foe.

> O beloved, if thou wouldst attain freedom,

> Be equal unto all.

>

> ... Shankara, Moha Mudgaram

>

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