HYMN OF THE GOLDEN AGE (From Nammalvar's Tiruvaymoli)

[Source: Article 21876 of soc.culture.tamil:
Newsgroups: soc.culture.tamil
From: SANKARAN@Meena.CC.URegina.CA (Sankaran, Sam)
Subject: Bharati Translations - nammAlvAr's tiruvAymozhi


 Here is a translation by poet Bharati of selections from nammAlvAr's 
thiruvAymozhi. I will appreciate it if knowledgeable netters would point
me to the first lines of the originals.
Source: AGNI... pp. 19-20. ]



                     HYMN OF THE GOLDEN AGE
                      (From Nammalvar's Tiruvaymoli)
                       (August 1917, ARYA)


    'Tis glory, glory! For Life's hard curse has expired; swept out are 
Pain and Hell, and Death has nought to do here. Mark ye, the Iron Age shall
end. For we have seen the hosts of Vishnu; richly do they enter in and 
chant His praise and dance and thrive.

   We have seen, we have seen, we have seen, ....seen things full sweet in
our eyes. Come, all ye lovers of God, let us shout and dance for joy with
oft-made surrenderings. Wide do they roam on earth singing songs and 
dancing, the hosts of Krishna who wears the cool and beautiful Tulsi, the
desire of the bees.

   The Iron Age shall change. It shall fade, it shall pass away. The gods 
shall be in our midst. The mighty Golden Age shall hold the earth and the
flood of the highest Bliss shall swell. For the hosts of our dark-hued Lord,
dark-hued like the cloud, dark-hued like the sea, widely they enter in, 
singing songs, and everywhere they have seized on their stations.

    The hosts of our Lord who reclines on the sea of Vastness, behold them
thronging hither. Meseems they will tear up all these weeds of grasping
cults. And varied songs do they sing, our Lord's own hosts, as they dance, 
falling, sitting, standing, marching, leaping, bending.
    And many are thw wondrous sights that strike mine eyes. As if by magic
Vishnu's hosts have come in and firmly placed themselves everywhere. Nor
doubt it, ye fiends and demons. if such be born in our midst, take heed!
Ye shall never escape. For the spirit of Time will slay and fling you away.

    ( To be continued)



 LOVE-MAD (From Nammalvar's Tiruvaymoli)
 
   
[Article 22159 of soc.culture.tamil:
Newsgroups: soc.culture.tamil
From: SANKARAN@Meena.CC.URegina.CA (Sankaran, Sam)
Subject: Bharati Translations - more nammAzhvar

Source: AGNI... , pp. 21-23.


                          LOVE-MAD
                   (From Nammalvar's Tiruvaymoli)
                         ( July, 1915, Arya )


 ( The realisation of God in all things by the vision of Divine Love.
 The poetic image used in the following verses is characteristically Indian.
The mother of a love-stricken girl (symbolising the human soul yearning
to merge into the Godhead) is complaining to her friend of the sad plight
of her child, whom love for Krishna has rendered 'mad':-- the effect of the
'madness' being that in all things she is able to see nothing but forms
of Krishna, the ultimate spirit of the Universe.)

Seated, she caresses the Earth and cries, "This Earth is Vishnu's;"
Salutes the sky and bids us, "Behold the Heaven He ruleth;"
Or standing with tear-filled eyes cries loud, "O Sea-hued Lord!"
All helpless am I, my friends; my child has He rendered mad.

Or joining her hands she fancies, "the Sea where my Lord reposes!"
Or hailing the ruddy sun she cries, "Yes, This is His form"
Languid, she bursts into tears and mutters Narayana's name.
I am dazed at the things she is doing, my gazelle, my chils, shaped god-like.

Knowing, she embraces red fire, is scorched and cries, "O Deathless!"
And she hugs the wind; " 'Tis my own Govinda," she tells us.
She smells the honied Tulsi, my gazelle-like child, Ah me!
How many the pranks she plays for my sinful eyes to behold.

The rising moon she showeth, " 'Tis the shining gem-hued Krishna!"
Or, eyeing the standing hill, she cries: "O come, High Vishnu!"
It rains, and she dances and cries, "He hath come, the God of my love!"
Oh the mad conceits He hath given to my tender, dear one!

The soft-limbed calf she embraces, for "Such did Krishna tend,"
And follows the gliding serpent, explaining, "That is his couch."
I know not where this will end, this folly's play in my sweet one,
Afflicted, ay, for my sins, by Him, the Divine Magician.

Where tumblers dance with their pots, she runs and cries, "Govinda."
At the charming notes of a flute she faints, for "Krishna, He playeth."
When cowherd dames bring butter, she is sure it was tasted by Him.
So mad for the Lord who sucked out the Demoness' life through her bosom!

In rising madness she raves, "All worlds are by Krishna made."
And she runs after ash-covered folk; forsooth, they serve High Vishnu!
Or she looks at the fragrant Tulsi and claims Narayana's garland.
She is ever for Vishnu, my darling, or in, or out of, her wits.

And in all your wealthy princes she but sees the Lord of Lakshmi
At the sight of beautiful colours, she cries, "O my Lord world-scanning!"
And all the shrines in the land, are to her shrines of Vishnu.
In awe and in love, unceasing she adores the ffet of that Wizard.

All Gods and Saints are Krishna -- Devourer of Infinite spaces.
And the huge dark clouds are Krishna; all fain would she fly to reach them.
Or the kine, they gaze on the meadow and thither she runs to find Him.

The Lord of illusions, He makes my dear one pant and rave.
Languid she stares around her or gazes afar into space;
She sweats and with eyes full of tears she sighs and faints away;
Rising, she speaks but His name and cries, "Do come O Lord!"
Ah, what shall I do with my poor child o'erwhelmed by the maddest love?

                    ( End of Translation)

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