Home › In Hindu Literature › In Hindu Literature: Like

In Hindu Literature: Like

I mark where thou appearest A fair and mountain river. "Like Gangá proud thou showest, From heavenly regions springing; Around thee, as thou flowest, The birds their course are winging. "The timid deer confiding, Thy flowery borders throng; And bees, their store providing, Pour forth enraptured song."

Coming upon the vine into which the nymph has been changed, the king pauses, filled with a strange emotion, and addresses the now flowerless vine, - "No bees regale her with their songs; silent And sad, she lonely shows the image Of my repentant love, who now laments Her causeless indignation. I will press The melancholy likeness to my heart."

In his embrace the vine changes into the nymph and he sings in a very different mood, "I have sued to the starry-plumed bird, And the kóil of love-breathing song; To the lord of the elephant herd, And the bee as he murmured along; To the swan, and the loud waterfall, To the chakwa, the rock and the roe.

In thy search have I sued them all, But none of them lightened my woe."

In the drama of the "Toy Cart," written by Çūdraka, the most Shakespearian of the Hindu dramatists, and contemporary with Kālidāsa, we find the verse more dignified, if less graceful, and the bee as much a favorite as ever. Chárudatta, a Brahman who has impoverished himself by his munificence, says to his friend, - " I do not, trust me, grieve for my lost wealth:

But that the guest no longer seeks the dwelling, Whence wealth has vanished, does, I own, afflict me. Like the ungrateful bees, who wanton fly The elephant's broad front, when thick congeals The dried-up dew, they visit me no more."

In the same play in the description of a house of many courts we read the following:- "The flute here breathes the soft hum of the bee, whilst here a damsel holds the víná in her lap, and frets its wires with her finger-nails; some damsels are singing like so many bees intoxicated with flowery nectar; others are practising the graceful dance, and others are employed in reading plays and poems. The place is hung with water jars, suspended to catch the cooling breeze." "How bravely the old garden looks," says Chárudatta's servant as he conducts his master hither, and Chárudatta replies : - "'Tis true; like wealthy merchants are the trees Who spread in clustering flowers the choicest wares; Amongst them lustily the bees are straying To gather tribute for the royal hive."

Chárudatta, in court, accused of murder, says: - "When first the flower unfolds, as flock the bees To drink the honeyed dew, so mischiefs crowd The entrance opened by man's falling fortune."

Defending himself later, he says: - "For me - you know me - would I pluck a flower, I draw the tender creeper gently to me, Nor rudely rob it of its clustering beauty.

How think you then? - could I with violent hands Tear from their lovely seat those jetty locks, More glossy than the black bee's wing?"

In Hindu Literature In the "Stolen Marriage," a drama written somewhat later by Bhavabhuti, "he in whose throat eloquence resides," we have the same sensuous imagery, the beauty and delight of nature enhanced by the murmur of the bees : "I went To Kamadeva's 1 temple, where I strayed, Till weary I reclined beside a fountain That laves the deep roots of a stately tree, Whose clustering blossoms wooed the wanton bees To cull their sweet inebriating fragrance.

Lulled by their songs and tempted by the shade, I laid me down, and in pure idleness, To while away the time, I gathered round me The new fall'n blossoms, and assiduous wove A flowery garland."

In "The Necklace," the king's confidential companion leads him to the garden. "This is the place, sir. Behold the rich canopy of the pollen of the mango blossoms, wafted above our heads by the southern breeze, and the chorus bursts from the kóils and the bees to hail your approach."

The king replies : - "The garden is now most lovely. The trees partake of the rapturous season; their new leaves glow like coral, their branches wave with animation in the wind, and their foliage resounds with the blythe murmurs of the bee. The bakula blossoms lie around its roots like ruby wine; the champaka flowers blush with the ruddiness of youthful beauty; the bees give back in harmony the music of the anklets, ringing melodiously as the delicate feet are raised against the stem of the Asaka tree." 2 1 Kāmadeva, god of love. 2 The Asaka tree was believed to burst into blossom if touched by the foot of a beautiful woman.

The Lover's Song to his Beloved "Come, love, thou puttest the night to shame. The beauty of the moon is eclipsed by the loveliness of thy countenance, and the lotus sinks humbled into shade; the sweet songs of thy attendant damsels discredit the murmur of the bees, and, mortified, they hasten to hide their disgrace within the flowery blossom."