Come with me to Arunachala!The shadow of the banyan,The flow of the stream,A song on your lips and youBy my side.Drunk with the honey from newly blossomedflowers,The sunbirds, singing with intoxication;The waves of wind touching softlyWith the smoothness of tender Raavi leavesThe temple bellw ringing in the distance;The shadows of clouds encircling the peak;The fragrance of mountain grass and wildjasmine.From the spheres of the skyThe plaintive call of the eagle;The longing cry of the doveFor her mate.
EverywhereFlowers blossomedIn this light.“In this worldIs there a single lotusof heartWhich has opened itspetals to this light,Showering for aeonsIn a downpour from thesky?”Asked the divinevoice.O dwellers of thisearth,Eternal travelersYou who face a newlife,Fill the cups of yourhearts with thisDivine nectar of light”.The voice exhorted.
The morning voice which resounded Through all corners of the earth Spoke from somewhere under the blood, Even in men absorbed in activity, As the mysterious, unexpressed memories Of many lives The meadow grass started with flowers, at the shining edge of a forest On the shores of an island Washed by the waves of the blue sea, The pure song of a mountain stream, The sacred bath on the banks of a river, The clear, innocent, bright laughter, From the jubilant heart of a childThe beautiful, half remembered wandering in dreams, The inexpressibhle joy emanating from the depths of the heart— Somewhere In some folds of consciousness, All this flashed for a moment, That is all.Later, the usual dark layers covering the mind: Annoying thoughts, complicated dealings.
Hiranya garbha holdsThe animate and inanimate worldIn an effulgent, thousand armedembraceYet not a single heart rejoicesIn his spontaneous friendship.The light is heartsDoes not give luster to eyes.The richness of lifeIs not echoed in a single voiceWith tortured looks which cannotbear the immenseSplendor dancing all aroundPeople crawlInto the bonds of dark desires,Into the intricacies of superfluousthoughts,Into the obscurities of earning aliving.
Look!Shadows are slowlySlithering under therocksLike snakes;The birds in the treebranches arechirpingTheir feathers ruffledby the ticklingOf the cold fingers ofwind;The cooing of dovesIn the dark of the treeoverheadIs drawing sleep overmy eyes;The shimmering lighton the streamFrom the summit ofArunachala is playingwith your feet
To these people,To these half blind men,Always raising theireyelidsTo open their eyes tolight,How many great menWith hearts melting forthis wretched world,Expounded t so manyreligions,Explained so many pathsof salvation,Taught so many ways ofrealization!
Prophet after prophet Seer after seerIncarnation following incarnation, Came into this mire, Exhorted Sand, recited Vedas, Pleaded, And spread the light
For shaking themfrom their stupor,For chastisingthem for theirpetty sensual lusts,For trying to opentheir eyelidsClosed to light,For condemningviolence andprostitution,For preachingunpracticablerighteousness andDifficultdemeaning morals,For obstructingtheir power,Self importance,and rightsfor threateningthem with death,hell and the wrathof God
They stoned and torturedThese bearers of divinemessagesCrucified them,Plucked out their eyes,Hushed their voices.
Sufferers, come;We will comfort you.Lowly ones, shrink not withoppressions;You are blessed.You poor and gentle people,Don’t cry;The kingdom of heaven is yours.You who are blinded with pride,You who are insane with violence,You who are ruthless in ambition,Do not forget there is a God.”Where are the prophets who criedthus with a thousand voicesOn mountain tops, in thoroughfares,Near forest hermitages,These merciful men,Who gave their blood, theirhappiness, their lives,Who swam against power and time?
How many yogisBearing divine message on their lips,Nectar in their voices,Fire in their eyes,the majesty of an ocean in their hearts,Have come downOne after another to redeem the lowly!
Sri Krishna, who played Eternal wisdom on his flute As a world enchanting song;The Buddha, who extinguished suffering With a peaceful smile; Jesus, who descended promisingto atone men’s sins with his own blood, Mohammed, who cut off heads To penetrate into men’s hearts- Today all these men are mere names In religions, quarrels, poems, And self aggrandizement