Bhartuhari on Renuciation

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Bhartuhari on Renuciation

 

To Him who appears radiant in the shimmering rays,

like half-bloomed buds, of the crescent moon which

ornaments His head; who sportively burned Cupid like a

 

moth; whose presence augurs supreme well-being; who,

like the sun, inwardly dispels the dense darkness of

ignorance engulfing the mind; who is like a lamp of

knowledge shining in the hearts of yogis; Victory to

Shiva!

Traveling across many difficult and dangerous places

brought me no wealth; giving up pride of lineage, I

have served the rich in vain, without self-respect, in

others'

homes; I have craved and eaten like crows in others'

homes; and still, oh Desire! instigator of wicked

deeds, you prosper and even then remain unsatisfied.

 

Digging the earth for wealth, smelting the rocks for

precious metals, crossing the oceans, laboring to keep

in favor of kings, chanting incantations with a

totally

absorbed mind in cremation sites,--brought me not even

a broken piece of a glimmering shell. Oh Desire!

therefore, remain contented.

 

Enduring somehow in servility the talk of the wicked;

holding back tears; smiling with a vacant mind; bowing

low to wealthy but stupid people; oh insatiable

Desire!

What other futile deeds would you have me dance in?

 

Our energies, as fickle as the water drops on the

lotus leaf, we have spent with thoughtless abandon. In

front of the rich, with their minds dulled by the

arrogance of wealth, we have sinned by flattering

ourselves.

Forgiving out of weakness, giving up comforts of the

home out of lack of fulfillment, tolerating the

unbearable cold, wind, heat, without fulfilling

austerities, thinking

of riches day and night with intense energy but not on

Shiva's feet,; thus have we performed the actions of

the ascetic recluse, but devoid of the benefits.

We have not enjoyed mundane pleasures, but ourselves

have been devoured by desires. We have not performed

austerities, but got scorched ourselves, nevertheless;

 

time is not gone but we approach the end. Desires do

not wear out, only we ourselves are struck down by

senility.

Face covered with wrinkles, the head painted white

with gray hair, the limbs feeble, and yet Desire alone

stays youthful.

 

With desires receding, even much respect of many

dropping away, dear friends close to my heart fleeing

to heaven, standing up slowly with the help of a

stick,

eyesight darkened by cataracts,---even then the body

in its stupidity, wonders at the prospect of death!

Hope, like a river, with fantasies as water, agitated

by waves of desires; attachments to various objects

serving as prey; abounding in thoughts of greed,

like birds; destroying the foes of courage; surrounded

by eddies of ignorance deep and difficult to cross;

with precipitous banks of anxiety---such a river

the perfected yogis of pure minds, cross to enjoy

beatitude.

I do not see true well-being accruing from actions

repeated life after life in this world. On deep

thought, I find it fearsome this collection of merits.

By this great store of merits further enjoyments can

be procured. Attachment to pleasures only brings more

misery.

Sensual pleasures will surely leave us sometime, even

if they stay with us for a long time. Then, what

difference does it make if the people discard them

by their own choice? The mind is sorely afflicted if

pleasures leave us of their own accord. However, if

people renounce them voluntarily, such self-control

gives

 

infinite bliss.

Ah! knowledge of Reality gained by discrimination

through purified intellect must be difficult. For it

results from the absolute renunciation of desires

which wealth enabled them to enjoy. The same obtained

in the past or present, or to be obtained in the

future, we are unable to renounce, though they remain

as mere longings.

 

Blessed are they who live in mountain-caves,meditating

on the Supreme Lord, with the birds fearlessly

sitting on their laps drinking the tears of joy.

Our life fades away, revelling in fantasies in palaces

or on the banks of refreshing ponds, or in pleasure

gardens.

For eating I have tasteless food once a day, after

begging of alms; the earth for a bed, and my own body

as a servant; for dress, a blanket made from

hundreds of rags; and yet alas! sensual desires do not

leave me!

 

The poets give such metaphors as golden vessels to the

breasts which are but two lumps of flesh; the mouth,

seat of phlegm and mucus, are compared to

the moon; the loins, outlet for wet urine, are likened

to the forehead of an elephant; thus glorifying the

human form that is always contemptible.

Uniquely great is Shiva among the sensuous, for he

shares half the body with His beloved; among the

dispassionate no one excels Him in detachment from

women.

Rest of the people, stunned in infatuation by Cupid's

irresistible arrows tipped with serpent poison, can

neither enjoy their desires nor give them up at will.

 

Like a moth falling in fire, not knowing its burning

power; or like the fish caught in ignorance by the

baited hook; we, despite knowing the dangers, do not

renounce sensual pleasures. Oh! how profound is the

glory of delusion!

When the mouth is parched with thirst, a person drinks

cool and sweet water; when smitten with hunger the

person eats rice, flavored with meat et cetera.;

when afire with passion, he embraces the wife with

great firmness; thus, joy is the remedying of these

diseases(thirst,hunger,lust), and yet how much

distress

in these remedies!

Owning towering mansions, with sons honored by the

learned and wealthy; with a charitable and youthful

wife, the ignorant people regard this world as

permanent,

and enter this prison of repeated cycles of birth and

death. Blessed indeed is one who sees the momentary

transience and renounces it.

 

Distressed, misery written on her face, constantly

tugged at her worn-out clothes by hungry, crying

children---if one were to see such a wife, what wise

person, smitten with hunger, with a choked and

faltering voice, would say "Give me", fearing refusal

of his entreaty?

Clever in undoing the knots of self-respect; like the

moonlight brightly shining on the lotus of virtues;

like a hatchet cutting off the lush creepers

of our vaunted modesty--- such is the hard mockery of

filling the pit of the stomach

Wandering in holy places or extensive forests, whose

outskirts are grey with smoke of fires tended by

priests expert in rituals; a begging bowl in hand

covered with a white cloth; entering from door to door

to appease the distressing hunger by filling the

stomach and sustaining the energy, is preferred by a

self-respecting person to being a beggar among his

compeers every day.

Will the Himalayan ranges, cooled by the fine spray

from the waves of the Ganges, and with the beautiful

rocky plateaus occupied by celestial musicians,

dissolve

and disappear, prompting people to disgrace themselves

by depending on others for their livelihood?

Have the roots and herbs from the caves gone out of

existence, or have the streams disappeared from the

mountains, or have the trees yielding succulent fruits

 

on their branches and barks from their trunks been

destroyed, which would lead these wicked folks,

destitute of good breeding, to show their faces, with

eyebrows

dancing like wind-blown creepers due to arrogance of

laboriously earning their meager livelihood?

Now, accepting lovingly the sacred roots and fruits

for sustenance and the earth covered with fresh

leaves of branches for a bed, let us go forth to the

forest, where people whose minds are mean and devoid

of discretion, and who always talk excruciatingly of

the afflictions of wealth, are not even heard from.

 

With fruits available at will in every forest, and

cool, sweet water from holy streams in every place,

and a bed made of tender leaves and twigs, still these

miserable people endure sorrow at the gates of the

rich.

Those who grovel before the rich, and those given to

meanness with their reason satisfied with mere sensual

pleasures, may I recall their days of plight with

an inner smile, while lying down on a stone-bed in a

mountain-cave, during lulls in-between meditation.

 

Encoded and Translated by Sri Sunder Hattangadi

( gourish (AT) internet1 (DOT) net )

 

 

 

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