Thou Who dost wipe away sorrows that gather around, all hail! Thou Who in thick darkness dancing dost bend down, all hail! Lover of Her with shoulders like the swelling bamboo, hail! Thou Who art hostile to the hostile one, our King, all hail!
Thou Who to thy lovers art treasure in distress, all hail! Praise to Thee, Great One, Who fill'st our souls with pious rage! Praise to Thee, mighty in Thine ash-smeared form! In every part what moves, Thou mov'st it; what lies still, Thou lay'st to rest What stands, Thou dost establish. Not by the eye perceived, nor by sense-organs all. Thou didst arrange in order, manifest the ether and all elemcnts. Like fragrance of the flower uprising everywhere, Thy greatness without cease all things pervades, This day to me in condescending grace Thou cam'st Making this body of destruction fall away, O Being glorious!
To-day to me in condescending grace Thou cam'st; I praise Thee! As fountain springing in my soul Thou mak'st me glad, I praise Thee! Whlle pleasure beyond bound like flower expands I know not how to bear this body vile! His hidings of Himself Bright gems flash'd emerald splendour forth,- The lightning's play mingling with gleam of gold,- BrahmA went up to seek Thee; Thou didst hide Thyself!
From them who toiled with mystic scrolls didst hide Thyself! From those who in their homes practised virtue, Thou didst hide Thyself From those who, in union with Thee, fixed their contemplative soul Wlth painfiul effort; Thou didst hide Thyself! Benign, regarding all, receiving with abundant grace As male appearing Thou dost change to neutral form, And in a bright-browed female form dost hide Thyself! Far off Bidding the senses five depart, passing over every trackless hill With frames scarce living, spurning all delights, Ascetic saints in contemplation dwell;-in their souls Thou fitly hid'st Thyself!
Seeming one thing, then not, eluding knowledge, Thou dost hide Thyself! But we've found Thee now! Worship Haste, haste ye, garlands of fresh flowers Around His feet to bind! Assemble, go around, follow hard on, leave ye no gap. Lay hold of Him, although He hide Himself, avoid your grasp! He called, in grace He made me His, He as a BrAhman showed His glory forth, Then, while undying love dissolved my frame, I cried; I raised enraptured voice above the billowy sea's loud waves; In utter wilderment I fell, I rolled, I cried aloud, Madman distraught, and as a maniac raved; While those who saw were wildered, who heard it wonder'd sore.
More than the frenzy wild of raging elephant Bore me away beyond endurance far. The ancient city of His foes with fire lit by His beauteous smile He caused to fall. Ev'n so that day With mighty fire of grace our humble dwellings He destroyed that none were left.
To me as the ripe Nelli fruit in palm He was. Rapture What to say I know not, Hail! I mere cur cannot endure! What He hath done to me I understand not! Ah I'm dead! Like flowing billows swell from out the sea of milk Within my soul He made deep waters rise, Ambrosia surpassing speech filled every pore.
In every body in this currish state He filled me full with honied sweetness; Ambrosial drops most marvellous He caused throughout my being to distil. And as an elephant explores fields of sweet cane, at last He sought, and found, and made even me to live. This seems to the translator to read more like a work of UmApathi, than of our sage! Lines The Feet of Civan While the Four-faced and other heavenly dwellers rose, Adoring, sacred MAl, whose head with rays is crowned, With His two feet measured the threefold world,- While saints from the four quarters praised with all their sentient powers, Eager that day Thy foot and crown to know, 5 He then became a fierce strong boar, and rushing on Dug down through sevenfold regions, wearied cried at last: Eternal Source of all, to Thee be triumphs manifold!
Thus was I born into the sad sea of th' afflictive life. How varied was my life!. Morning's routine, hunger in noontide hour, and night For sleep. In journeys oft I lived. Jet black locks, and crimson lips, and radiant smiles were hers; 30 Into love's sea I plunged. I lived by sea of learning multiform; I lived in sorrow men call wealth; I lived 'mid ancient stings of poverty, 40 And thus in varied forms and fortunes spent my days.
Lines The idea of God comes into his life Then wondrous thought of the Divine, so-called, arose. Sectarian disputants complacently Discordant tenets shouted loud and fought. Then haughty VedAnt creed unreal came, Whirled, dashed, and roared like furious hurricane. Whilst these delusions, endless, girt me round, Lines 59 - 86 His conversion Lest I should go astray, He laid His hand on me! As wax before the unwearied fire 60 With melting soul I worshipt, wept, and bent myself, Danced, cried aloud, and sang, and prayed.
They say: 'The tooth of elephant and woman's grasp relax not,' So I with love, real, interrnitting never, Was pierced, as wedge driven into soft young tree. While the world called me demon, mocking me, False shame I threw aside; the folk's abusive word I took as ornament; nor did I swerve.
All wondering desire, As cow yearns for its calf, I moaning, hurried to and fro. Not ev'n in dreams thought I of other gods. The One most precious Infinite to earth came down; 75 Nor did I greatness of the Sage superne contemn, Who came in grace.
Thus from the pair of sacred feet Like shadow from its substance parting not, Before, behind, at every point, to it I clung. My inmost self in strong desire dissolved, I yearned; 80 Love's river overflowed its banks; My senses all in Him were centredl; 'Lord! With stammering speech, and quivering frame I clasped adoring hands; my heart expanding like a flower. Eyes gleamed with joy and tears distilled.
To the end : Praises Like mother, Thou hast brought me up, I praise! God, strong to cancel deeds of ours, Who didst become in truth a Sage, I praise! King of golden Madura! Dancing in southern Tillai's court, This day to me precious ambrosia Thou! Source of the fourfold mystic Scroll that ne'er grows old!
Civan, whose conquering banner is the Bull! In me the stony heart Thou softenest. Guard me, Thou guarded hill of gold! Ah, give Thy grace to me! Thou dost create, Thou tost preserve, Thou dost destroy! Ruler, I praise! My King, I praise! Mount of shining crystal,-praise! Monarch, to Thee be praise! Unfailing refuge are Thy fragrant-feet!
Spotless One,- praise! Thee First, I praise! Wisdom, I praise! Thou Goal I seek,praise! Sweet fruition, Thee I praise! Our Lord, on Whose bright crest the river flows, Our Master, praise! Minute as atom,-praise! O Caivan, -praise! Our Chief, I praise! Our Sign, I praise! Virtue, I praise! ThouWay, I praise! O Thought, I praise!
King, easy of access to others, praise! Monarch in grace, Who savest lest we sink In hell's hated one-and-twenty rounds, I praise! My Helper,-praise! My Treasure,praisc! O free from bonds,praisc! First One,praise! Thou One, transcending word and understanding,praise! Yield of the world girt by the extended sea, praise! Eye like an azure cloud, I praise! Abiding Mount of sacred grace, I praise! Sea of imperishable rapture, praise , Thou dost transcend all forms that pass and come renewed, praise!
First One surpassing all, praise! Bridegroom of Her with fawnlike eyes, praise! Fivefold Thou dost in earth extend,-praise! Fourfold Thou dost exist in the water,-praise! Threefold in fire Thou shinest,-praise! Twofold in the air Thou art all glorious, -praise! Ambrosia of the troubled mind,praise! Hard to be approached by gods e'en in a dream,praise! In waking hour to me a cur Thou gavest grace,praise! Father, Who dwell'st in Idai-maruthu,praise!
King in ArUr abiding,praise! Lord of glorious Tiru-aiyAru,praise! Our Prince of AnnAmalai,praise! Sea of ambrosia, filling all the place,- praise! Thou Who in form art half a woman,-praise! Who dwell'st supreme in Perun-turrai,-praise! Civan Who dwell'st in Sira-palli,-praise!
None other refuge here I know, -praise! Our King dwelling in GOkazi, praise! Our Father of IngOy's Mount, praise! Beauteous One of seemly Paranam, praise! Idangan Who dwell'st in KadambUr, praise!
Beneath the Itti tree to six, King, Thou wert gracious, and to th' elephant,-praise! Civan, Lord of the southern land,praise! King of our country folk,-praise! Lord of glorious Kailai's Mountpraise! Father, Who grants us grace,-praise! King, Who our darkness dissipates,-praise! I Thy slave languish all alone,-praise! Poison became ambrosis by Thy love,-praise! Pure One,-praise! Existent One,-praise!
O Great One,-praise! O Lord,-praise! O Rare One,-praise! O Pure One,-praise! Glorious Path of Vedic sages,-praise! I make my plaint,nor can endure, O First One,-praise! O Cloud,-praise! O Bridegroom, praise! Spouse of Her whose feet are soft,-praise! I, a cur, Thy slave am perplexed,-praise! Eye apprehending forms diverse,-praise! King, dwelling in the circling, sacred town, I praise!
Lord of the mountain land,-praise! Thou in Whose locks is the crescent moon,-praise! Aran of hilly PUvanam,-praise! Formless, in form revealed Thou art,-praise! Mountain of mercy ever nigh,-praise! Light transcending utmost bound,-praise! Ray of the flawless Gem, praise! Loving to those Thou mak'et Thine own,-praise! Ambrosial grace that satiates not,-praise! Our Lord, the bearer of a thousand names,-praise!
Dancer in light expanding far,-praise! O Beauteous with the santhal wood perfume,-praise! Bliss, hard for thought to reach,-praise!
On Mandira's mighty mount Thou dwell'st,-praise! Thou Who in grace didst give the tiger's dug to th' antelope,-praise! Thou Who didst walk upon the billowy sea,-praise! I hou didst give grace that day to the black bird,-praise! Thou didst appear by sense discerned,-praise! Thou art the First, the Midst, the Last,-praise! Thou that fillest all, to Thee be praise! God, garlanded with purple lotus flower, to Thee be praise!
Thou dost cut off bewilderment of those that worship Thee,-praise! Take in grace this wreath of babbling words From me, mere cur, that know not to distinguish false from true! Infinite Lord of splendours infinite,-praise! Ancient-cause of all! Triumphant praise! Introduction to the Sacred Cento This remarkable poem contains a hundred especially flowing and harmonious verses of varying metres.
These are divided into ten decades, and the whole are connected by the law which requires that the last word of each verse shall begin the following verse. The whole ten lyrics with their hundred verses are thus linked together.
This arrangement, which is very common in Tamil, is called AnthAthi, which I venture to translate 'anaphoretic verse'. This cento is intended to exhibit the progress of the soul through the successful stages of religious experience till it loses itself in the rapture of complete union with the Supreme. The general titile given by one editor is equivalent to 'The Varying Phases of Religious Enthusiasm' at least this is the nearest expression for it that I can find in English.
The poem is supposed to have been composed in Tiru-peran-turai immediately after the departure of the Saints, for some time MAnikka-VAcagar's companions, who passed through fire and went home to Civan. From the border of the tank, where the divine conflagration had arisen, into he midst of which his companions had thrown themselves, he returned to the Kondral tree, where he spent a long period in solitary meditation, of which these poems are the sum.
He surveys his past experiences, contemplates the work assigned him and while he begins the series of sacred poems by which he was to establish the Caiva system n the hearts of his fellow-countrymen, he never ceases to complain in most touching language, that he is not permitted at once to follow his Master and brethren into the rest and glory of Paradise.
This is indeed the burthen of much of his poetry. The titles of the ten decades, into which the poem is divided, indicate in some measure the course of his thoughts and the character of his mental conflicts. There is a most pathetic alternation of rapturous and realising devotion with coldness and apathy, and even, it seems of temporary abandonment to gross sensuality.
It is to be doubted whether the whole of these verses are of one period, and I should prefer to think that they really embody his meditations and solloquies up to the period of his final settlement in Cithambaram. DECAD 1. Humble access to the New Master. My frame before Thy fragrant foot is quivering like al1 opening bud;- My hands above my head I raise; while tears pour down, my melting soul, The false renouncing,, praises Thee; with songs of triumph praises Thee,- Nor suffer I adoring hand to rest;-O Master, look on me!
He accepts the ascetic life. He is despised as a mad enthusiast. Transcendent Good! Owner and Sire! Thy servant melting thinks on Thee. In raptures meet I utter forth my fever'd soul's ecstatic joys, Still wandering from town to town; while men cry out, 'A madman this;' And each one speaks, with mind distraught, discordant words. O, when come death? None to be worshipped but Civan. Erewhile was Dakshan's offering death.
They ate the flesh, and poison feared ' Our Father,' cried our friends and worshipt Him with suppliant voice. And yet 'Three are the gods that rule in heaven and earth,' they vainly deem. What sin is this your haughty minds breathe out, ye errirng penitents? I plead no merit- am no real devotee. No penance have I done, nor bowed, with hand unstinting scatt'ring flowers; Born all in vain,-to ' cruel deeds ' a thrall,-the bliss of Civan's heav'n, Amongst Thy loving ones, I've fail'd to gain; see, and in grace bestow On me, Thy slave, consummate life beneath Thy feet, Supernal Lord!
Grace unfailing to the faithful. They roam'd and cull'd choice varied flowers to lay in worship at Thy feet, They deemed that all they sought they should obtain; and from these loving hearts In mystic guile Thou hidest still, abiding not! In grace bestow, Love to Thy glorious foot, that I may ceaseless praise with perfect song! Civan was an ascetic,as am I now. Erewhile the Maker's-maker bowed, brought blooming flowers, and everywhere Sought for Th' All-seeing One, nor found.
Our mighty One, Who dwells beyond, Here in the wilds with demons danced, a homeless, friendless one; and there In tiger-skin arrayed Himself, as madman wand'ring to and fro! Save Thy servants in the day of doom! After that hour unknown has come The deeds-mighty the soul to bind-Thy slave in wand'ring days has done Let the time come for these to pass!
Guard us from these, our Guardian then! Bhavan's our Lord. Bhavan's our Lord, Whose garland is the cool vast moon, of heavenly one The Prince. That earth may know, sound out that Bhuvan is our Lord!
Unmeet was I to enter 'mongst Thy loving ones, my flawless Gem! Ambrosia rare! The way Thou took'st me for Thine own and mad'st me meet The very meanest lifting high, Thou didst the heav'nly ones bring low! What Thou our Lord to me hast done is as a play men laugh to see! A prayer for perfect love- 'Midmost of Thy devoted ones, like them in mystic dance to move; Within Thy home above to gain wish'd entrance, lo, I eager haste!
O golden-glorious Hill of gems! Give grace, that ceaseless love to Thee. Our Master, in my heart of hearts, melting my very soul, may 'bide. Longing for grace alone. I dread not any birth. To death what should I owe! Nor do I crave Even heaven itself to gain. No power to rule this earth do I esteem.
O Civan, crowned with cassia-flowers that sweets distil; our PerumAn! Our only Lord! I fainting cry: ' When comes the day I find Thy grace?
I sit, no fitting flowers present, my tongue no rising raptures speaks. Thou Who the well-strung golden bow didst bend! Deadness of soul. To death I haste! Thou Whom true wisdom bringeth nigh!
My praise is pure. Free me from embodiments. The heavenly ones adore Thee still heaven's bliss to share! Their minds to Thee They lowly humble that, on high exalted, men may worship them; Thou round whose flower-wreath hum the honey-bees! Thy slave, I praise Thee, even I, that Thou may'st save from idle round of earthly birth! The bliss of Civan's heaven of presence. The heavenly dwellers chaunt Thy praise; the fourfold VEdas utter song; She of the shining locks that shed perfume is sharer of Thy seat; There in true love Thy servants all commingling dwell; there, more and more, Thy feet with sounding anklets girt do they behold, Thou hard to know!
This abandonment is unendurable. Thou Whom 'tis hard to know, in sky and in the golden court revealed,- Our mighty One! How can it be? I die, insooth, I die! He is above; we earthly still.
With flow'ry arrows in the spring-time comes the god of soft desire, And witching smile of maidens fair, with rosy mouths and flower-wreathed locks! Poor soul, that pants and melts through these, Who made thee His, and thrilled thy frame, To-day hath gone and dwells in heaven; yet see, thou still art lingering here! O soul be wise! O soul, that livest here in joy! Of life's true joys bereft, in mire Thou sink'st of 'mighty deeds '! Him Who guards men from sinking praisest not!
This decad describes the mystic experience known by Caiva Siddhantha, as NAna-Carithai, in which the devotee, though able to discern God in and above and beyond all things, continues to perform outward rites Carithai and to avail himself ofall means of grace.
I have relapsed into apathy. Thou mad'st me Thine! Yet now. Deadness has come over me. Like iron statue, I Now sing no praise, nor dance, nor weep, nor wail,.
Very vile, but Thine, save me! Though such I was, Thou took'st me for Thine own. Thy saints are here no longer, only I, Vile wretch! Our PerumAn, what shall I say to Thee? Thy votary, though full of sin. In torrent plunged of lust And guile, behold me, spotless Hill of gems! The mystery of His being.
Thy colour is not red,-nor white Thy form;-. Thou showd'st Thy form, Thy beauty didst display. Me wandering, Thine Thou mad'st, safeguarding me from future ' birth '! Wonders of grace. Of me, mere cur,.
Thou mad'st the eye rest on Thy foot's blest flower, Thou mad'st me bow before that flower alone! My mouth. Thou mad'st to speak abroad Thy gem-like word!
My senses five to fill Thou cam'st, and mad'st me Thine. Ambrosial Sea of magic might! O Mount! Thyself Thou gav'st, Thy form like wild of roseate lotus flowers,. Thou Only-Light! So to me, O Primal One, Thou showd'st a boundless fertile shore,. What He did for me. Him none by hearing know; He knoweth no decay;. He hath no kin; naught asking, heareth all! While people of the land beheld, here on this earth.
Such is the wondrous work our Lord hath wrought for me! His appearing. Say, is there aught like this? He made me servant of His loving saints; Dispell'd my fear, ambrosia pouring forth, He came,. King of the ' Three '; what teeming worlds create, Preserve, destroy; the First; Essence divine;.
He came, and made me, too, His own. Henceforth I'm no one's vassal; none I fear! We've reached the goal; with servants of His saints. The sluggish soul. I thou dost! The ungrateful, treacherous heart. My Sire came, entered, made His own me who knew naught; in mercy taught. Despite the gain of changeless, sweetest gifts of grace,thou'rt changed,. Heart unworthy of trust; insensible to complaint My foolish senseless HEART, that changing, RUIN bringst to me, Henceforth I trust thee nevermore;-assuredly on Civan's mighty arm The ashes thickly smeared thou saw'st, yet melted'st not; this, body's bonds Thou rendest not,-nor can I bid restore the ruin thou hast wrought.
The utter folly of the fickle mind. Perish, O restless mind! Truly I deem Thy wisdom and Thy greatness measureless! Insensible to infinite mercy. What remedy? If 'tis not given to pass the golden gate,-where all may entrance find, And whence none e'er departs;-nor yet to melt in love before the foot Of Him, my Sire, my Lord;-if there to me abound no more Ambrosia, every honied sweet;-a sinful man, what can I do for this?
A sinner - I quit thee not. What other sinners are there like to me, cur at the Master's Foot? Yet not a whit from me to sever is Thy sacred will; and thus, O Primal One, Thy Foot's fair flower if I should quit, arld yet live on, My soul is iron, stone my mind; my ear to what shall it compare!
Life, a long exile. The others all have reached the goal, yet I, who know not anything, Haste not to Thee who art all sweetness, Civan, King of Civa-world; Thou Spouse of her whose eye is like the tender fawn; long time I still abide, cherish this flesh, and so my death-in-life drags on!
How do I bear life? O bliss that ceases not! O bliss beyond compare! His bright flower-foot He gave; to me of kind more base than dogs, He showed the perfect way My Chief, who gave me grace sweeter than mother's love, I see not now! Yet in the fire I fall not, wander not o'er hills, nor plunge me in the sea! Still the senses' slave. No heed; like milk 'neath churning stick I'm stirred by wiles of those of fawn like eyes.
To Civan's city go I not, where grace as honey to the soul is given; To cherish soul within the body, still I eat, and garments still put on! I did not clearly apprehend Thine appearing.
Like elephant two-handed I saw not My mind's true germ; I saw but sore distress. Thou bad'st me, 'come'; yet, 'mid the heavenly ones 'Twas l alone passed not, the senses' slave. It must have been illusion. Is HE man? To all who apprehend that one bright Essence truly is, As female, male, or lifeless thing Thou art not known;- To me Thy servant, coming as Thou art, Thou didst appear!
I saw Thee, yet I saw Thee not! What visual juggle this! When shall I really see Thee as Thou art? Thou Form unique, to even heavenly ones Unknown! Thou Mystic Dancer, Who didst make me Thine!
Me Thine! I am of earth, earthy. Thou Infinite, by men yet seen! Beyond eye's ken Thou Essence gleaming bright! Here, like a fledgling, I Would gladly leave this faulty frame; yet know I not Dweller in this sense-world-how I may Thee put on. I call not on Thee filled with mighty love, Nor render praise, nor fall in ecstasy 'Tis with me as when death confronted Thee, Bowing before those lotus flowers Thy feet. Call me, take me once more. Call, take me 'midst Thy loving ones, Thou crowned With cassias, home of sweets and humming bees!
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