Guest guest Posted March 8, 2002 Report Share Posted March 8, 2002 Namaste, http://www.ramanuja.org/sv/acharyas/desika/stotras/stotras10.html#Daya GRANT ME Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers but to be fearless in facing them. Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain but for the heart to conquer it. Let me not look for allies in life's battlefield but to my own strength. Let me not crave in anxious fear to be saved but hope for the patience to win my freedom. Grant me that I may not be coward, feeling your mercy in my success alone; but let me find the grasp of your hand in my failure. Rabindranath Tagore COMPASSION, AN EXAMPLE Upagupta, the disciple of Buddha, lay sleep in the dust by the city wall of Mathura. Lamps were all out, doors were all shut, and stars were all hidden by the murky sky of August. Whose feet were those tinkling with anklets, touching his breast of a sudden? He woke up startled, and a light from a woman's lamp fell on his forgiving eyes. It was dancing girl, starred with jewels, Wearing a pale blue mantle, drunk with the wine of her youth. She lowered her lamp and saw young face austerely beautiful. " Forgive me, young ascetic, " said the woman, " Graciously come to my house. The dusty earth is not fit bed for you. " The young ascetic answered, " Woman, go on your way; When the time is ripe I will come to you. " Suddenly the black night showed its teeth in a flash of lightening. The storm growled from the corner of the sky, and The woman trembled in fear of some unknown danger. * . * A year has not yet passed. It was evening of a day in April, in spring season. The branches of the way side trees were full of blossom. Gay notes of a flute came floating in the warm spring air from a far. The citizens had gone to the woods for the festival of flowers. From the mid sky gazed the full moon on the shadows of the silent town. The young ascetic was walking along the lonely street, While overhead the love-sick koels uttered from the mango branches their sleepless plaint. Upagupta passed through the city gates, and stood at the base of the rampart. Was that a woman lying at his feet in the shadow of the mango grove? Stuck with black prestilence, her body spotted with sores of small-pox, She had been hurriedly removed from the town To avoid her poisonous contagion. The ascetic sat by her side, took her head on his knees, And moistened her lips with water, and smeared her body with sandal balm. " Who are you, merciful one? " asked the woman. " The time, at last, has come to visit you, and I am here, " replied the young ascetic. Rabindranath Tagore ------------------------------- Vedanta Desika's Daya Shatakam at URL: http://www.ramanuja.org/sv/acharyas/desika/stotras/stotras10.html#Daya Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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