RAPTURE OF LIFE IN CIVAN
1) His praises.
Partner of Umai’s loveliness! Destroyer of the ‘deeds’
That to this frame cling fast! Thou Guardian of the Bull! Who dwell’st
In Perun-turrai’s sacred shrine by well-skilled bards extolled!
When shall I joy, O when exulting sing, henceforth, I too? || 4 ||
2) His condescending love.
And who am I would reach His foot? To me, mere cur, a throne
He gave; enter’d my flesh; mixed with my life; leaves not my soul.
With crown of honey-dripping-locks, blest Perun-turrai’s Lord
On me a gracious boon bestow’d, that heavenly ones know not! || 8 ||
3) Sacred enthusiasm.
I know myself no more; nor day’s nor night’s recurrence; He
Who mind and speech transcends with mystic madness madden’d me;
He owns the angry mighty Bull;- blest Perun-turrai’s Lord;
The Brahman used to me wiles I know not,- O Beam divine! || 12 ||
4) None like to Him.
And are there other sin-destroyers, say! in this wide world?
Ent’ring me too, He made me His, melting my very bones!
He bound me fast, O joy! Lord, Who in Perun-turrai dwells,
He fills my mind, in eye enshrin’d, midmost in every word! || 16 ||
5) Cling to Him with reverent love.
Ye who are freed from clinging ties, cling ye where man should cling!
If ye desire the blissful goal to reach, swift hasten on!
Learn ye the glory of the King, Who crowned with braided lock
In Perun-turrai dwells; join ye with those who cherish there His foot! || 20 ||
6) I am His, body and soul.
Foulness that heaves like billows of the sea He all destroy’d;
My soul and body ener’d,- tills, and quits no more. He Who
In Perun-turrai dwells, with crown of spreading braided locks,
Wreath’d with the moon’s bright beams, our Lord Supreme. This is His wile! || 24 ||
7) The goal reached.
Glory I ask not; nor desire I wealth; not earth or heaven I crave;
I seek no birth or death; those that desire not Civan nevermore
I touch. I’ve reach’d the foot of sacred Perun-turrai’s King,
And crown’d myself! I go not forth! I know no going hence again! || 28 ||
8) Honey or nectar?
Shall I name Thee ‘honey from the branch’? ‘nectar from the sounding sea’?
Our Aran! precious Balm! my King! No powers have I to sing Thy praise,
Who dwell’st in Perun-turrai’s shrine, by loamy rice-fields girt,
Thou Spotless One, Whose sacred Form the holy ash adorns! || 32 ||
9) Withdrawal of comfort.
Thee I know I need: and all I need I yet know not;
Ah me! our Aran, precious Balm, Ambrosia, Thou Whose Form is like
The crimson flower, Who dwell’st in sacred Perun-turrai’s shrine,
And still remain’st, the very self within my soul! || 36 ||
10) Prayer permitted still.
While dwellers in the heavenly world do holy deeds, in vain
Bearing a frame of flesh compact, I stand like forest tree:
Thou dwell’st in Perun-turrai’s shrine, where honey-dripping cassia blooms;
Though I’m a sinner, yet I may implore, ‘give grace to me!’ || 40 ||