Classic Poem

I

H IMALAYA mountain-monarch,
Guarding regions of the north,
Stretching east to western ocean,
Seems to span the spacious earth.
As the cow gives milk to young ones,
So the earth to Himalay
Yielded wealth of wood and forest,
Gem and stone of purest ray.
And so bright the store of treasure,
Ice bedims it not, nor snow,
As the stain on moon's bright crescent
Darkens not its silver glow!
Rocks that glow like ruddy evening,
Tints that with the soft clouds blend,
Tempt the nymphs to paint their glances,
Teach them keener darts to send.
Peaks that rise above the rain cloud,
And in constant sunshine glow,
Tempt the anchorite and hermit
From the mist and storm below.
Ice field, where in vain the hunter
Seeks for bloodstains washed by snow,
Strewn by pearls from slaughtered tuskers,
Teach him secret haunts to know.
And the barks on which in crimson
Whispered thoughts of love are written,
Serve as missives for the wood-nymphs,
Oft, alas, in secret smitten!

II

Woodland minstrels lift their voices
Rich in notes of woodland love,
Mountain breezes lend their music
Piping through the bamboo grove.
Stately Sal-trees broke by tuskers
Yield their gum so rich and rare,
Lend their fragrance to the greenwood,
Scenting sweet the mounting air.
Creepers, luminous in darkness,
In the lover's grottos gleam,
And like night-lamps self-illumined
Shed a soft and kindly beam.
And deep-bosomed forest damsels,
Moving with a languid grace,
Though they step o'er frozen ice-fields,
Oft frequent the trysting place!
Shadows fleeing from the sunlight
Shelter in the mountain's cave,
As the timid and the helpless
Seek for refuge with the brave.
Chowries wave their fans of silver
Gleaming like the moonbeams bright,
As to crowned king his menials
Wave the Chamar silver-white.
And the mists that shade the grottos,
Deepening as they onward ride,
Often screen from ardent lovers
Charms the blushing nymph would hide!
Saturate with Ganga's moisture
Breezes cool the rocky soil,
Murmur through the mountain forest,
Cheer the hunter in his toil.
Lotus beds whence star-bright Rishis
Gather buds for holy rite,
Are by southern sun awakened
With a faint and crimson light.
And to dominate this wide earth,
And to prosper pious rites,
Himalay was made the loftiest
Of all lofty mountain heights!

III

Lo! the mountain-monarch,
To his duty true,
Wedded sweet-eyed Mena, —
Saints her virtues knew;
Sported in love's dalliance
Nymph and monarch brave,
And the happy Mena
Gladsome promise gave!
Daksha's duteous daughter, —
Siva's former wife, —
Came as Mena's daughter,
Took a newer life;
Her as monarch's infant
Queenly Mena bore,
As to wisdom wedded
Virtue brings forth lore!
Flowers from heavens descended,
Music cheered the morn,
Air was filled with gladness,
When the babe was born;
And with brighter beauty
Queenly Mena shone,
Like the famed Vidura
With her gem and stone!

IV

As the waxing moon in splendour
Wears a bright and brighter ray,
So the sweet child sweetly added
Lines of beauty day by day.
Parvati, — so gossips named her,
Mountain-child of peerless fame,
Uma, — so her mother called her,
Uma was her cherished name.
And on her the fondling father
Eyes of soft affection bent,
As the bee is drawn at spring time
By the blossoming mango's scent!
For as flame is to the bright lamp,
Milky way to starry heaven,
Poetry to soul of genius,
She unto her sire was given!
And the sands of Mandakini
Witnessed gentle Uma's play,
Girt by maidens of the mountain,
Merry as the morning's ray.
And as swans of Ganga's waters,
Light to lustrous plants of earth,
Grace and culture came to Uma, —
Culture of a former birth!

V

Youth disclosed a woman's beauty,
Nature's graces void of art,
Wine's sweet langour void of madness,
Love's soft glamour not his dart.
And as painter's pencil traces
Blushing bloom of brow and face,
Or as sunbeams ope the lotus,
Youth disclosed the maiden's grace!
From her feet bright tints of crimson
Seemed to drop at ever pace,
Lotus waved by gentle zephyrs
Move not with a softer grace.
And her anklets sweetly tinkled
As the princess walked in state,
Stately white birds caught the music,
Uma caught their graceful gait!
Tapering limbs in beauty fashioned
Shewed the Maker's highest skill,
When He shaped all forms in nature,
Uma's form was loveliest still.
For all bright and beauteous objects,
Lithesome shape or slender tree,
Were but models rudely fashioned, —
In her blent harmoniously!
Softly swelling, sweetly rounded,
Uma shewed her girdled charms, —
More than mortal woman's beauty,
Destined for immortal arms;
And a dark gem decked the girdle
Cast its radiance clear and keen, —
Shaded lines with pencilled beauty
Marked her gently swelling skin.
Curve and dimple sweetly moulded,
On her lithe form softly traced,
Were like steps young Love had fashioned
Nestling in her heaving breast;
And her young and swelling bosom
Rose voluptuous; scarce I ween,
Tenderest fibre of the lotus
Found a resting place between!

VI

Soft the blossoms of Sirisa,
Softer Uma's rounded arms, —
Were they chains young Love had fashioned
For the God who owned her charms?
On her neck and heaving bosom
Hung the pearls in graceful cluster,
Did they lend her brighter beauty,
Did her bosom lend them lustre?
If the lotus oped its petals
In the beauty of the night,
Moon-lit blossoms then might rival
Uma's face serene and bright!
If the jasmine bloomed on coral,
Pearls on rosy leaf were set,
Uma's red lips, teeth of whiteness,
Nature then might imitate!
And when from those red lips issued
Voice of music sweet and clear,
In the woods that startled Kokil
Hushed his lay that voice to hear!
And her glances! Did the wild deer
Learn the dark charm of her eye, —
Did she from the deer of forest
Learn that secret mystery?
Arched eye-brows darkly shaded
Thrilled the gazer's beating heart,
Were they young Love's bow of prowess
Quick to send the fatal dart?
And in dark and clustering ringlets
Fell her ample wealth of hair,
Did the long haired mountain Chowrie
Hide in shame within her lair?
Fairest forms and shapes in nature
Richest tint and softest shade,
Were in harmony united
To create this mountain maid!

VII

Heavenly minstrel Narad,
Saw her beauty's pride, —
Saw, the girl was destined
To be Siva's bride.
And no other bridegroom
Sought her royal sire, —
Sacred gift is offered
Only to the Fire.
Nor to high-souled Siva
Was an offer laid, —
He must seek and conquer
Who would win a maid.
Since his former consort
Left her mortal life,
Siva was a wanderer,
Sought no second wife.
And where Ganga's waters
Washed the mountain wood,
In the fragrant forests
He in penance stood.
There, his rustic menials,
Decked in leaf and flower,
Sported on the red rock
Rested in the bower.
There, the bull of Siva
On the ice-field stood,
Viewed by beasts with terror,
Monarch of the wood.
There the homeless Siva
Prayed alone and dwelt,
Who shall tell what purpose
In his heart he felt?
And the mountain-monarch
Held him as his guest,
Bade his duteous daughter
Wait upon his hest.
And on Siva waited
Uma meek of eye,
Woman's beauty moves not
Him whose thoughts are high.
And she culled the blossoms,
Lit the sacred fire,
Fetched the grass and water,
For Kailasa's Sire!