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Krishna.
Men call the Aswattha,—the Banyan-tree,—
Which hath its boughs beneath, its roots above,—
The ever-holy tree. Yea! for its leaves
Are green and waving hymns which whisper Truth!
Who knows the Aswattha, knows Veds, and all.
Its branches shoot to heaven and sink to earth,[FN#30]
Even as the deeds of men, which take their birth From qualities: its silver sprays and blooms, And all the eager verdure of its girth,
Leap to quick life at kiss of sun and air, As men’s lives quicken to the temptings fair Of wooing sense: its hanging rootlets seek The soil beneath, helping to hold it there, As actions wrought amid this world of men Bind them by ever-tightening bonds again.
If ye knew well the teaching of the Tree, What its shape saith; and whence it springs; and, then How it must end, and all the ills of it, The axe of sharp Detachment ye would whet, And cleave the clinging snaky roots, and lay This Aswattha of sense-life low,—to set New growths upspringing to that happier sky,—
Which they who reach shall have no day to die, Nor fade away, nor fall—to Him, I mean, FATHER and FIRST, Who made the mystery
Of old Creation; for to Him come they
From passion and from dreams who break away; Who part the bonds constraining them to flesh, And,—Him, the Highest, worshipping alway—
No longer grow at mercy of what breeze
Of summer pleasure stirs the sleeping trees, What blast of tempest tears them, bough and stem To the eternal world pass such as these!
Another Sun gleams there! another Moon!
Another Light,—not Dusk, nor Dawn, nor Noon—
Which they who once behold return no more; They have attained My rest, life’s Utmost boon!
When, in this world of manifested life,
The undying Spirit, setting forth from Me, Taketh on form, it draweth to itself
From Being’s storehouse,—which containeth all,—
Senses and intellect. The Sovereign Soul Thus entering the flesh, or quitting it, Gathers these up, as the wind gathers scents, Blowing above the flower-beds. Ear and Eye, And Touch and Taste, and Smelling, these it takes,—
Yea, and a sentient mind;—linking itself To sense-things so.
The unenlightened ones
Mark not that Spirit when he goes or comes, Nor when he takes his pleasure in the form, Conjoined with qualities; but those see plain Who have the eyes to see. Holy souls see Which strive thereto. Enlightened, they perceive That Spirit in themselves; but foolish ones, Even though they strive, discern not, having hearts Unkindled, ill-informed!
Know, too, from Me
Shineth the gathered glory of the suns
Which lighten all the world: from Me the moons Draw silvery beams, and fire fierce loveliness.
I penetrate the clay, and lend all shapes Their living force; I glide into the plant—
Root, leaf, and bloom—to make the woodlands green With springing sap. Becoming vital warmth, I glow in glad, respiring frames, and pass, With outward and with inward breath, to feed The body by all meats.[FN#31]
For in this world
Being is twofold: the Divided, one;
The Undivided, one. All things that live Are “the Divided.” That which sits apart, “The Undivided.”
Higher still is He,
The Highest, holding all, whose Name is LORD, The Eternal, Sovereign, First! Who fills all worlds, Sustaining them. And—dwelling thus beyond Divided Being and Undivided—I
Am called of men and Vedas, Life Supreme, The PURUSHOTTAMA.
Who knows Me thus,
With mind unclouded, knoweth all, dear Prince!
And with his whole soul ever worshippeth Me.
Now is the sacred, secret Mystery
Declared to thee! Who comprehendeth this Hath wisdom! He is quit of works in bliss!
HERE ENDS CHAPTER XV. OF THE BHAGAVAD-GITA Entitled “Purushottamapraptiyog,”
Or “The Book of Religion by attaining the Supreme.”
Krishna.
Fearlessness, singleness of soul, the will Always to strive for wisdom; opened hand And governed appetites; and piety,
And love of lonely study; humbleness,
Uprightness, heed to injure nought which lives, Truthfulness, slowness unto wrath, a mind That lightly letteth go what others prize; And equanimity, and charity
Which spieth no man’s faults; and tenderness Towards all that suffer; a contented heart, Fluttered by no desires; a bearing mild, Modest, and grave, with manhood nobly mixed, With patience, fortitude, and purity;
An unrevengeful spirit, never given
To rate itself too high;—such be the signs, O Indian Prince! of him whose feet are set On that fair path which leads to heavenly birth!
Deceitfulness, and arrogance, and pride, Quickness to anger, harsh and evil speech, And ignorance, to its own darkness blind,—
These be the signs, My Prince! of him whose birth Is fated for the regions of the vile.[FN#32]
The Heavenly Birth brings to deliverance, So should’st thou know! The birth with Asuras Brings into bondage. Be thou joyous, Prince!
Whose lot is set apart for heavenly Birth.
Two stamps there are marked on all living men, Divine and Undivine; I spake to thee
By what marks thou shouldst know the Heavenly Man, Hear from me now of the Unheavenly!
They comprehend not, the Unheavenly,
How Souls go forth from Me; nor how they come Back unto Me: nor is there Truth in these, Nor purity, nor rule of Life. “This world Hath not a Law, nor Order, nor a Lord,”
So say they: “nor hath risen up by Cause Following on Cause, in perfect purposing, But is none other than a House of Lust.”
And, this thing thinking, all those ruined ones—
Of little wit, dark-minded—give themselves To evil deeds, the curses of their kind.
Surrendered to desires insatiable,
Full of deceitfulness, folly, and pride, In blindness cleaving to their errors, caught Into the sinful course, they trust this lie As it were true—this lie which leads to death—
Finding in Pleasure all the good which is, And crying “Here it finisheth!”
Ensnared
In nooses of a hundred idle hopes,
Slaves to their passion and their wrath, they buy Wealth with base deeds, to glut hot appetites; “Thus much, to-day,” they say, “we gained! thereby Such and such wish of heart shall have its fill; And this is ours! and th’ other shall be ours!
To-day we slew a foe, and we will slay
Our other enemy to-morrow! Look!
Are we not lords? Make we not goodly cheer?
Is not our fortune famous, brave, and great?
Rich are we, proudly born! What other men Live like to us? Kill, then, for sacrifice!
Cast largesse, and be merry!” So they speak Darkened by ignorance; and so they fall—
Tossed to and fro with projects, tricked, and bound In net of black delusion, lost in lusts—
Down to foul Naraka. Conceited, fond,
Stubborn and proud, dead-drunken with the wine Of wealth, and reckless, all their offerings Have but a show of reverence, being not made In piety of ancient faith. Thus vowed
To selfhood, force, insolence, feasting, wrath, These My blasphemers, in the forms they wear And in the forms they breed, my foemen are, Hateful and hating; cruel, evil, vile,
Lowest and least of men, whom I cast down Again, and yet again, at end of lives,
Into some devilish womb, whence—birth by birth—
The devilish wombs re-spawn them, all beguiled; And, till they find and worship Me, sweet Prince!
Tread they that Nether Road.
The Doors of Hell
Are threefold, whereby men to ruin pass,—
The door of Lust, the door of Wrath, the door Of Avarice. Let a man shun those three!
He who shall turn aside from entering
All those three gates of Narak, wendeth straight To find his peace, and comes to Swarga’s gate.
… … … …[FN#33]
HERE ENDETH CHAPTER XVI. OF THE BHAGAVAD-GITA, Entitled “Daivasarasaupadwibhagayog,”
Or “The Book of the Separateness of the Divine and Undivine.”
Arjuna.
If men forsake the holy ordinance,
Heedless of Shastras, yet keep faith at heart And worship, what shall be the state of those, Great Krishna! Sattwan, Rajas, Tamas? Say!
Krishna.
Threefold the faith is of mankind and springs From those three qualities,—becoming “true,”
Or “passion-stained,” or “dark,” as thou shalt hear!
The faith of each believer, Indian Prince!
Conforms itself to what he truly is.
Where thou shalt see a worshipper, that one To what he worships lives assimilate,
[Such as the shrine, so is the votary,]
The “soothfast” souls adore true gods; the souls Obeying Rajas worship Rakshasas[FN#34]
Or Yakshas; and the men of Darkness pray To Pretas and to Bhutas.[FN#35] Yea, and those Who practise bitter penance, not enjoined By rightful rule—penance which hath its root In self-sufficient, proud hypocrisies—
Those men, passion-beset, violent, wild, Torturing—the witless ones—My elements Shut in fair company within their flesh, (Nay, Me myself, present within the flesh!) Know them to devils devoted, not to Heaven!
For like as foods are threefold for mankind In nourishing, so is there threefold way Of worship, abstinence, and almsgiving!
Hear this of Me! there is a food which brings Force, substance, strength, and health, and joy to live, Being well-seasoned, cordial, comforting, The “Soothfast” meat. And there be foods which bring Aches and unrests, and burning blood, and grief, Being too biting, heating, salt, and sharp, And therefore craved by too strong appetite.
And there is foul food—kept from over-night,[FN#36]
Savourless, filthy, which the foul will eat, A feast of rottenness, meet for the lips Of such as love the “Darkness.”
Thus with rites;—
A sacrifice not for rewardment made,
Offered in rightful wise, when he who vows Sayeth, with heart devout, “This I should do!”
Is “Soothfast” rite. But sacrifice for gain, Offered for good repute, be sure that this, O Best of Bharatas! is Rajas-rite,
With stamp of “passion.” And a sacrifice Offered against the laws, with no due dole Of food-giving, with no accompaniment
Of hallowed hymn, nor largesse to the priests, In faithless celebration, call it vile,
The deed of “Darkness!”—lost!
Worship of gods
Meriting worship; lowly reverence
Of Twice-borns, Teachers, Elders; Purity, Rectitude, and the Brahmacharya’s vow,
And not to injure any helpless thing,—
These make a true religiousness of Act.
Words causing no man woe, words ever true, Gentle and pleasing words, and those ye say In murmured reading of a Sacred Writ,—
These make the true religiousness of Speech.
Serenity of soul, benignity,
Sway of the silent Spirit, constant stress To sanctify the Nature,—these things make Good rite, and true religiousness of Mind.
Such threefold faith, in highest piety
Kept, with no hope of gain, by hearts devote, Is perfect work of Sattwan, true belief.
Religion shown in act of proud display
To win good entertainment, worship, fame, Such—say I—is of Rajas, rash and vain.
Religion followed by a witless will
To torture self, or come at power to hurt Another,—‘tis of Tamas, dark and ill.
The gift lovingly given, when one shall say “Now must I gladly give!” when he who takes Can render nothing back; made in due place, Due time, and to a meet recipient,
Is gift of Sattwan, fair and profitable.
The gift selfishly given, where to receive Is hoped again, or when some end is sought, Or where the gift is proffered with a grudge, This is of Rajas, stained with impulse, ill.
The gift churlishly flung, at evil time, In wrongful place, to base recipient,
Made in disdain or harsh unkindliness,
Is gift of Tamas, dark; it doth not bless![FN#37]
HERE ENDETH CHAPTER XVII. OF THE BHAGAVAD-GITA, Entitled “Sraddhatrayavibhagayog,”
Or “The Book of Religion by the Threefold Kinds of Faith.”
Arjuna.
Fain would I better know, Thou Glorious One!
The very truth—Heart’s Lord!—of Sannyas, Abstention; and enunciation, Lord!
Tyaga; and what separates these twain!
Krishna.
The poets rightly teach that Sannyas
Is the foregoing of all acts which
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