TASIN OF GAUTAMA
The Repentance of
the coquettish Dancing-Girl
Gautama
| Ancient wine and youthful beloved are-nothing; | |
| for men of true vision the houris of Paradise are-nothing. | |
| Whatever you know as firm and enduring passes away, | 765 |
| mountain and desert, land, sea and shore are-nothing. | |
| The science of the Westerners, the philosophy of the Easterners | |
| are all idol-houses, and the visiting of idols yields-nothing. | |
| Think upon Self, and pass not fearfully through this desert, | |
| for you are, while the substance of both worlds is—nothing | 770 |
| On the road which I hewed out with the point of my eyelash | |
| station and caravan and shifting sands are-nothing. | |
| Transcend the unseen, for this doubt and surmise are nothing; | |
| to be in the world and to escape from the world-that is. Something! | |
| The Paradise that some God grants unto you is nothing; | 775 |
| when Paradise is the reward of your labours-that is something. | |
| Do you seek repose for your soul? The soul’s repose is nothing; | |
| the tear shed in sorrow for your companions-that is something. | |
| The wine-drenched eye, the temptress glance and the song | |
| are all fair, but sweeter than these-there is something. | 780 |
| The cheek’s beauty lives for a moment, in a moment is no more; | |
| the beauty of action and fine ideals-that is something. |
The Dancing-Girl
| Give not occasion for conturbation to this restless heart; | |
| add one or two curls more to my twisted tress. | |
| In my breast is such a lightning-flash of revelation from you, | 785 |
| I have yielded the bitterness of expectation to the moon and the sun. | |
| The joy of God’s presence founded in this world idolatry’s wont; | |
| love ever eludes the soul that is full of hope. | |
| So that with carefree heart I may play a new melody | |
| give back again to the meadow the true bird of the meadow. | 790 |
| You have granted me a lofty nature; release the shackle from my foot | |
| that I may bestow a prince’s robe upon your sackcloth. | |
| If the axe struck against the stone, what cause of talk is that? | |
| Love can carry upon its back a whole mountain-range! |