The Bhagavad Gita E-Book

Edwin Arnold

• Herausgeber: Phoemixx Classics Ebooks
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Seitenzahl: 98

Beschreibung

The Bhagavad Gita Edwin Arnold - The Bhagavad-Gita is the best known of all the Indian scriptures, and Sir Edwin Arnold's Sanskrit Text to English translation is reliable, readable, and poetic. "The Song Celestial" Sir Edwin produced a well-known poetic rendering of the sacred Hindu scripture Bhagavad-Gita. In his autobiography, Mahatma Gandhi recalled when two theosophist brothers gave him The Song Celestial during his studies in England. This was the first time Gandhi had ever read the Gita, as he had never read it in Sanskrit nor in Gujarati. Gandhi adored this version, stating: "I have read almost all English translations [...] and I regard Sir Edwin Arnold's as the best." Gandhi also invited Edwin Arnold to be the vice-president of the Vegetarian Society in London. This famous and marvellous Sanskrit poem occurs as an episode of the Mahabharata, in the sixth--or "Bhishma"--Parva of the great Hindoo epic. It enjoys immense popularity and authority in India, where it is reckoned as one of the ``Five Jewels,"--pancharatnani--of Devanagiri literature. In plain but noble language it unfolds a philosophical system which remains to this day the prevailing Brahmanic belief, blending as it does the doctrines of Kapila, Patanjali, and the Vedas. So lofty are many of its declarations, so sublime its aspirations, so pure and tender its piety, that Schlegel, after his study of the poem, breaks forth into this outburst of delight and praise towards its unknown author: "Magistrorum reverentia a Brachmanis inter sanctissima pietatis officia refertur. Ergo te primum, Vates sanctissime, Numinisque hypopheta! quisquis tandem inter mortales dictus tu fueris, carminis bujus auctor,, cujus oraculis mens ad excelsa quaeque,quaeque,, aeterna atque divina, cum inenarraoih quddam delectatione rapitur-te primum, inquam, salvere jubeo, et vestigia tua semper adore." Lassen re-echoes this splendid tribute; and indeed, so striking are some of the moralities here inculcated, and so close the parallelism--ofttimes actually verbal-- between its teachings and those of the New Testament, that a controversy has arisen between Pandits and Missionaries on the point whether the author borrowed from Christian sources, or the Evangelists and Apostles from him. This raises the question of its date, which cannot be positively settled. It must have been inlaid into the ancient epic at a period later than that of the original Mahabharata, but Mr Kasinath Telang has offered some fair arguments to prove it anterior to the Christian era. The weight of evidence, however, tends to place its composition at about the third century after Christ; and perhaps there are really echoes in this Brahmanic poem of the lessons of Galilee, and of the Syrian incarnation. Its scene is the level country between the Jumna and the Sarsooti rivers-now Kurnul and Jheend. Its simple plot consists of a dialogue held by Prince Arjuna, the brother of King Yudhisthira, with Krishna, the Supreme Deity, wearing the disguise of a charioteer. A great battle is impending between the armies of the Kauravas and Pandavas, and this conversation is maintained in a war-chariot drawn up between the opposing hosts.

Leseprobe

Edwin Arnold

The Bhagavad Gita

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Chapter 1. Of The Distress Of Arjuna

Dhritirashtra. Ranged thus for battle on the sacred plain-On Kurukshetra- say, Sanjaya! sayWhat wrought my people, and the Pandavas?Sanjaya. When he beheld the host of Pandavas,Raja Duryodhana to Drona drew,And spake these words: "Ah, Guru! see this line,How vast it is of Pandu fighting-men,Embattled by the son of Drupada,Thy scholar in the war! Therein stand rankedChiefs like Arjuna, like to Bhima chiefs,Benders of bows; Virata, Yuyudhan,Drupada, eminent upon his car,Dhrishtaket, Chekitan, Kasi's stout lord,Purujit, Kuntibhoj, and Saivya,With Yudhamanyu, and UttamaujSubhadra's child; and Drupadi's;- all famed!All mounted on their shining chariots!On our side, too,- thou best of Brahmans! seeExcellent chiefs, commanders of my line,Whose names I joy to count: thyself the first,Then Bhishma, Karna, Kripa fierce in fight,Vikarna, Aswatthaman; next to theseStrong Saumadatti, with full many moreValiant and tried, ready this day to dieFor me their king, each with his weapon grasped,Each skilful in the field. Weakest- meseems-Our battle shows where Bhishma holds command,And Bhima, fronting him, something too strong!Have care our captains nigh to Bhishma's ranksPrepare what help they may! Now, blow my shell!"

Then, at the signal of the aged king,With blare to wake the blood, rolling aroundLike to a lion's roar, the trumpeterBlew the great Conch; and, at the noise of it,Trumpets and drums, cymbals and gongs and hornsBurst into sudden clamour; as the blastsOf loosened tempest, such the tumult seemed!Then might be seen, upon their car of goldYoked with white steeds, blowing their battle-shells,Krishna the God, Arjuna at his side:Krishna, with knotted locks, blew his great conchCarved of the "Giant's bone;" Arjuna blewIndra's loud gift; Bhima the terrible-Wolf-bellied Bhima- blew a long reed-conch;And Yudhisthira, Kunti's blameless son,Winded a mighty shell, "Victory's Voice;"And Nakula blew shrill upon his conchNamed the "Sweet-sounding," Sahadev on hisCalled "Gem-bedecked," and Kasi's Prince on his.Sikhandi on his car, Dhrishtadyumn,Virata, Satyaki the Unsubdued,Drupada, with his sons, (O Lord of Earth!)Long-armed Subhadra's children, all blew loud,So that the clangour shook their foemen's hearts,With quaking earth and thundering heav'n.Then 'twas-Beholding Dhritirashtra's battle set,Weapons unsheathing, bows drawn forth, the warInstant to break- Arjun, whose ensign-badgeWas Hanuman the monkey, spake this thingTo Krishna the Divine, his charioteer:"Drive, Dauntless One! to yonder open groundBetwixt the armies; I would see more nighThese who will fight with us, those we must slayTo-day, in war's arbitrament; for, sure,On bloodshed all are bent who throng this plain,Obeying Dhritirashtra's sinful son."

Thus, by Arjuna prayed, (O Bharata!)Between the hosts that heavenly CharioteerDrove the bright car, reining its milk-white steedsWhere Bhishma led, and Drona, and their Lords."See!" spake he to Arjuna, "where they stand,Thy kindred of the Kurus:" and the PrinceMarked on each hand the kinsmen of his house,Grandsires and sires, uncles and brothers and sons,Cousins and sons-in-law and nephews, mixedWith friends and honoured elders; some this side,Some that side ranged: and, seeing those opposed,Such kith grown enemies- Arjuna's heartMelted with pity, while he uttered this:Arjuna. Krishna! as I behold, come here to shedTheir common blood, yon concourse of our kin,My members fail, my tongue dries in my mouth,A shudder thrills my body, and my hairBristles with horror; from my weak hand slipsGandiv, the goodly bow; a fever burnsMy skin to parching; hardly may I stand;The life within me seems to swim and faint;Nothing do I foresee save woe and wail!It is not good, O Keshav! nought of goodCan spring from mutual slaughter! Lo, I hateTriumph and domination, wealth and ease,Thus sadly won! Aho! what victoryCan bring delight, Govinda! what rich spoilsCould profit; what rule recompense; what spanOf life itself seem sweet, bought with such blood?Seeing that these stand here, ready to die,For whose sake life was fair, and pleasure pleased,And power grew precious:- grandsires, sires, and sons,Brothers, and fathers-in-law, and sons-in-law,Elders and friends! Shall I deal death on theseEven though they seek to slay us? Not one blow,O Madhusudan! will I strike to gainThe rule of all Three Worlds; then, how much lessTo seize an earthly kingdom! Killing theseMust breed but anguish, Krishna! If they beGuilty, we shall grow guilty by their deaths;Their sins will light on us, if we shall slayThose sons of Dhritirashtra, and our kin;What peace could come of that, O Madhava?For if indeed, blinded by lust and wrath,These cannot see, or will not see, the sinOf kingly lines o'erthrown and kinsmen slain,How should not we, who see, shun such a crime-We who perceive the guilt and feel the shame-O thou Delight of Men, Janardana?By overthrow of houses perishethTheir sweet continuous household piety,And- rites neglected, piety extinct-Enters impiety upon that home;Its women grow unwomaned, whence there springMad passions, and the mingling-up of castes,Sending a Hell-ward road that family,And whoso wrought its doom by wicked wrath.Nay, and the souls of honoured ancestorsFall from their place of peace, being bereftOf funeral-cakes and the wan death-water.So teach our holy hymns. Thus, if we slayKinsfolk and friends for love of earthly power,Ahovat! what an evil fault it were!Better I deem it, if my kinsmen strike,To face them weaponless, and bare my breastTo shaft and spear, than answer blow with blow.

So speaking, in the face of those two hosts,Arjuna sank upon his chariot-seat,And let fall bow and arrows, sick at heart.

HERE ENDETH CHAPTER I OF THEBHAGAVAD-GITA,Entitled "Arjun-Vishad,"Or "The Book of the Distress of Arjuna."

Chapter 2. Of Doctrines

Sanjaya. Him, filled with such compassion and such grief,With eyes tear-dimmed, despondent, in stern wordsThe Driver, Madhusudan, thus addressed:Krishna. How hath this weakness taken thee?Whence springsThe inglorious trouble, shameful to the brave,Barring the path of virtue? Nay, Arjun!Forbid thyself to feebleness! it marsThy warrior-name! cast off the coward-fit!Wake! Be thyself! Arise, Scourge of thy Foes!Arjuna. How can I, in the battle, shoot with shaftsOn Bhishma, or on Drona- O thou Chief!-Both worshipful, both honourable men?

Better to live on beggar's breadWith those we love alive,Than taste their blood in rich feasts spread,And guiltily survive!Ah! were it worse- who knows?- to beVictor or vanquished here,When those confront us angrilyWhose death leaves living drear?In pity lost, by doubtings tossed,My thoughts- distracted- turnTo Thee, the Guide I reverence most,That I may counsel learn:I know not what would heal the griefBurned into soul and sense,If I were earth's unchallenged chief-A god- and these gone thence!

Sanjaya. So spake Arjuna to the Lord of Hearts,And sighing, "I will not fight!" held silence then.To whom, with tender smile, (O Bharata!)While the Prince wept despairing 'twixt those hosts,Krishna made answer in divinest verse:Krishna. Thou grievest where no grief should be! thou speak'stWords lacking wisdom! for the wise in heartMourn not for those that live, nor those that die.Nor I, nor thou, nor any one of these,Ever was not, nor ever will not be,For ever and for ever afterwards.All, that doth live, lives always! To man's frameAs there come infancy and youth and age,So come there raisings-up and layings-downOf other and of other life-abodes,Which the wise know, and fear not. This that irks-Thy sense-life, thrilling to the elements-Bringing thee heat and cold, sorrows and joys,'Tis brief and mutable! Bear with it, Prince!As the wise bear. The soul which is not moved,The soul that with a strong and constant calmTakes sorrow and takes joy indifferently,Lives in the life undying! That which isCan never cease to be; that which is notWill not exist. To see this truth of bothIs theirs who part essence from accident,Substance from shadow. Indestructible,Learn thou! the Life is, spreading life through all;It cannot anywhere, by any means,Be anywise diminished, stayed, or changed.But for these fleeting frames which it informsWith spirit deathless, endless, infinite,They perish. Let them perish, Prince! and fight!He who shall say, "Lo! I have slain a man!"He who shall think, "Lo! I am slain!" those bothKnow naught! Life cannot slay. Life is not slain!Never the spirit was born; the spirit shall cease to be never;Never was time it was not; End and Beginning are dreams!Birthless and deathless and changeless remaineth the spirit forever;Death hath not touched it at all, dead though the house of itseems!Who knoweth it exhaustless, self-sustained,Immortal, indestructible,- shall suchSay, "I have killed a man, or caused to kill?"

Nay, but as when one layethHis worn-out robes away,And, taking new ones, sayeth,"These will I wear to-day!"So putteth by the spiritLightly its garb of flesh,And passeth to inheritA residence afresh.

I say to thee weapons reach not the Life;Flame burns it not, waters cannot o'erwhelm,Nor dry winds wither it. Impenetrable,Unentered, unassailed, unharmed, untouched,Immortal, all-arriving, stable, sure,Invisible, ineffable, by wordAnd thought uncompassed, ever all itself,Thus is the Soul declared! How wilt thou, then,-Knowing it so,- grieve when thou shouldst not grieve?How, if thou hearest that the man new-deadIs, like the man new-born, still living man-One same, existent Spirit- wilt thou weep?The end of birth is death; the end of deathIs birth: this is ordained! and mournest thou,Chief of the stalwart arm! for what befallsWhich could not otherwise befall? The birthOf living things comes unperceived; the deathComes unperceived; between them, beings perceive:What is there sorrowful herein, dear Prince?

Wonderful, wistful, to contemplate!Difficult, doubtful, to speak upon!Strange and great for tongue to relate,Mystical hearing for every one!Nor wotteth man this, what a marvel it is,When seeing, and saying, and hearing are done!

This Life within all living things, my Prince!Hides beyond harm; scorn thou to suffer, then,For that which cannot suffer. Do thy part!Be mindful of thy name, and tremble not!Nought better can betide a martial soulThan lawful war; happy the warriorTo whom comes joy of battle- comes, as now,Glorious and fair, unsought; opening for himA gateway unto Heav'n. But, if thou shunn'stThis honourable field- a Kshattriya-If, knowing thy duty and thy task, thou bidd'stDuty and task go by- that shall be sin!And those to come shall speak thee infamyFrom age to age; but infamy is worseFor men of noble blood to bear than death!The chiefs upon their battle-chariotsWill deem 'twas fear that drove thee from the fray.Of those who held thee mighty-souled the scornThou must abide, while all thine enemiesWill scatter bitter speech of thee, to mockThe valour which thou hadst; what fate could fallMore grievously than this? Either- being killed-Thou wilt win Swarga's safety, or- aliveAnd victor- thou wilt reign an earthly king.Therefore, arise, thou Son of Kunti! braceThine arm for conflict, nerve thy heart to meet-