Oh, Infinite!
There is an old bond between you and me; a tight bond forged by poets.
Namdev (1270 – 1350)
Poetry is undoubtedly one of the witnesses of the human spirit and life. Every valuable poem opens up a landscape through which we encounter the elements of life’s reality. We strive to experience them and enrich our souls with new knowledge. For the mystery of reality that stands before us is the same for all people, past and present, and the experiences of those who came before us are like lights on the path we walk today.
Indian poetry is beautiful, not just because of its beauty elegant, for true beauty is more than a sensory experience, likes and dislikes. An ancient Greek, accustomed to the harmony of proportions, probably would not have liked an Aztec sculpture that lacked snakes, teeth, and skulls, and yet, this seemingly clumsy form expresses the eternal truth about humanity. For ancient people, art was something serious and important, it was a way of opening consciousness towards Truth, God, Reality.
MILLIONS OF CENTURIES
Where are my words to express what I carry in my heart?
My love is born every moment.
Since the day of birth, I have witnessed his beauty,
But my eyes have not seen enough.
For millions of centuries, I have held him close to my heart,
Yet my heart still thirsts for him.
Kavivalabh
In ancient India, poetic word was associated with music and singing, and sometimes with dance and pantomime. Almost all texts were sung, either at public festivals, religious ceremonies, or at the courts of rulers. That is why every poet was also a singer and composer. One of the most The history of discussions on aesthetics, Višnudharmotara emphasizes that music, dance, and sculpture are expressions of the same universal rhythm. Verses are endlessly repeated, making it seem that the word itself is less important than the sound and rhythm. Even today, in India, songs are sung rather than recited. When it was discovered in the West that the great Indian poet and Nobel laureate Rabindranth Tagore was also the author of over two thousand compositions, there was general astonishment and enthusiasm, but in the eyes of the Indians, he was not an exception to the tradition. Translating the songs of a Bengali wandering sect, Tagore said that these songs, deprived of music, look like butterflies without wings. The tradition of memorizing and singing verses made them accessible to all people, literate and illiterate, so the songs of great Indian poets – Kabir, Nanak, Tulsidas, Shankara, Tukaram, Tagore, and others – are sung both in villages and palaces, thus surviving all manuscript burnings. Hsuan Tsang, a Chinese 7th-century traveler, with his journeys. Anja mentions Indian teachers who knew the Rigveda by heart with all its ten thousand verses.
Rigveda is characterized by sacred hymns which belong to the earliest period of Indian civilization. It consists of 1028 hymns dedicated mostly to Indra, as well as prayers addressed to gods such as Agni, Surya, and Varuna. Indo-European literature begins with Rigvedic poetry, and the Rigveda remains an inexhaustible source of Indian thought for centuries to come.
…
The sages call it Indra, Mitra, Varuna, Agni
And also Garuda with rapid wings.
It is one reality, but the wise have named it in various ways.
…
O Varuna, do not interrupt nor end my life
Now, while I weave my song;
Do not break my cup until it is filled to the brim.
…
The gentle winds are kind to those who seek moral order;
And may the rivers be kind to them.
May the plants be kind to us,
And may the night be kind and the dawn be kind.
May the region of the earth be kind to us. Oh,
Blessed be the sky, our father;
Blessed be the sun
And blessed be our cattle.
Poems of Buddhist Monks
The poems from the collection of Buddhist monks (Theragatha) and nuns (Therigatha) have great value:
UNDER A GOOD ROOF
I have a comfortable hut, under a good roof, sheltered from the wind;
Let your rain fall, God, let it pour abundantly!
My heart is calm, my heart is free,
And my dedication is fervent.
Let your rain pour, oh God, let it fall and pour!
Subhuti
TRANQUILITY
The rain has moistened the heavy land,
The cool winds blow, lightning flashes high above.
Now my mind and its turbulence are calm and gentle,
The dominion of the spirit enters my heart.
Vimala
A GARDEN IN THE BODY
Do not go to flower gardens!
Oh, friend, do not go there!
Gardens bloom within your body.
Sit on the thousand-petalled lotus flower
And immerse yourself in infinite beauty.
Tagore: Selection from Kabir’s poems
Through Indian poetry, it is clear that there is a different poetic perspective on the world, good and evil, sin and virtue, secular and sacred. Life is unique, so there is no rough division between the sacred and the secular, there is only Life, a reality with all its aspects to be explored. It emphasizes that a person is responsible for their own destiny and, as Buddha says, is born into a world they have created themselves.
The teaching of the cyclic nature of events, which permeates Indian thought and poetry, has shaped the mentality of a person who considers changes, emergence, and disappearance as natural and normal, that nothing transient can be held in one’s fist, that it is natural to be born and to die. When a young plant sprouts from the dark soil in spring and proudly reaches towards the Sun, it can leave its body in autumn and wait for a new spring; when the immense cosmos can come into existence and cease to exist and then come into existence again, why wouldn’t it be natural for humans as well?
All the tragedy of transience is replaced by the understanding that Life never dies and that even after physical death, the seed of life persists and prepares for a new beginning. It is for the reappearance again. Lord Shiva, the fearsome destroyer, whose dance symbolizes cosmic rhythm, is terrifying but noble because it allows something new to be born through the death of what is old.
Indian thought translated into poetry conveys a rich and multifaceted experience of the world, both spiritual and material, and does not separate these two components but recognizes them as a comprehensive reality. It sings about life and death, God, love, nature…
THE LORD IS IN POSSESSION OF MY BODY
Deep and dense fall the shadows of the evening,
And the darkness of love envelops body and soul.
Open the window to the west and disappear into the sky of love;
Drink the honey that drips down the petal of lotus in your heart.
Open your body to the waves: oh, what a splendid radiance in the sea!
Oh, hello! The sounds of trumpets and bells are growing.
Kabir says: ‘Brother, look! The Lord is in possession of my body.’
Kabir
Indian poetry is still largely unexplored, there are countless unrecorded songs of wandering singers. But, the Instead of waiting for the interpretation of an expert on the meaning of individual verses, let us return our trust to our heart, which can, in its own silence, recognize the beauty and depth of the verses within us and ourselves within the verses. Because, everything is One.
RADHA’S LAMENT
Oh, why did I descend to the waters of the Kalindi?
The dark lover bewitches me and steals my heart.
My eyes drown in the flood of that beauty,
And my spirit wanders in the dust of youthful charms.
And the path stretches infinitely towards my abode.
And my heart breaks within me,
And my soul wails in torment.
Look, the doll of my heart fell into a trap
Of an impenetrable black mark on its forehead,
On the backdrop of sandalwood powder, in the form of the moon.
Around its waist is a yellow skirt, and a belt.
And the Creator made it so,
To be the cause of their madness,
To destroy the maidens.
And all social bonds, and all kinship,
Manners and
rules of good behavior
Are now violated and shattered.
The rumors of my shame spread throughout the land,
That noble once-maiden, a branch of honorable lineage,
Now, has become a disgrace. Of two families.
And Janadas says:
may your heart be upright.
Janadas