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Vidyapati-
Part -II
Vidyapati, a fourteenth century Indian poet, is famous for
his love songs, written in Maithili, a regional language of
Eastern India. These songs treat Radha and Krishna as ideal
lovers whose idyllic romance embodied many vital phases of human
experience. The similarity of their theme, coupled with their
verbal charm, led Vidyapati to be hailed in his life-time as
'the new Jayadeva'.
These translations are done by Deben Bhattacharya, the modern
Bengali poet whose broadcasts and recordings of music have
achieved wide recognition.
These
translations are taken from the book published by Motilal
Banarasi Dass- Love Songs of Vidyapati edited by WG
Archer
MOONS AND MOONS
There is the one and only moon,
And then the moon
That haloes the crown of Siva.
There are people with the name ‘Moon’,
I saw one moon in the sky
But there were three with you.
That exquisite sight of the night
Confused my heart.
Who could believe
That
there are moons and moons,
Held
in a single place?
Which is the moon of the stars
And which the moon among girls,
And which moon shines
On the feathers of the night birds?
One moon plays with Madhava
And another in the sky.
'But there were three with you.'Radhä's three moons are, course,
her face and breasts.
'Night birds' are chakoras (Alectoris Graeca), a kind of
partridzf supposed to dote on the moon.
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APPROACH
OF SPRING
Let us watch
The spring appear
When the white hundas bloom
In majestic smiles.
The brilliant moon
Floats as a lover bee.
Bright is the night
And darkness shrouds the day.
Enchanted girls
Spurn love in pride
And the god of love
Leers like an enemy.
Spring is the time for love. Night and day, therefore, cannot aj
should not be distinguished.
The purpose of the god of love is to see that women yield
themseir to their lovers. Any reluctance on their part (whether
real or feigne is thus an affront-to be treated by him as a
declaration of w He will then 'leer like an enemy’ and desist
only when their prig has been destroyed.
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THE FOREST OF LOVE
Stalwart as a tree,
His deep embrace
Squeezes the vine
With branch-like arms.
When I want to sleep,
Krishna makes love
The whole night through,
Like a bee that lingers
On the fragrant malati.
He sucks my lips.
The forest has burst open
With white kunda blooms,
But the bee is enraptured
By malati and her honey.
Of the two jasmines, malati and kunda, malali (Radha) is the
more Fragrant
and hence is preferred by the bee (Krishna).
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DARKNESS AND
RAIN
Clouds break.
Arrows of water fall
Like the last blows
That end the world.
The night is thick
With lamp-black for the eyes.
Who but you, 0 friend,
Would keep so late a tryst?
The earth is a pool of mud
With dreaded snakes at large.
Darkness is everywhere,
Save where your feet
Flash with lightning.
'The last blows that end the world' are the deluge which world
cycle.
'You' is Rädha.
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AFTERMATH
Your eyes droop
with sleep
Yet still your face
Outshines the lotus.
Who was that fool
Who scarred your breasts,
Marring their god-like charms
With savage nails?
Your brow no longer wears
Its mark of scarlet.
Your lips of coral
Are drained grey.
Who has raided, my love,
Your house of treasure?
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THE SEASON OF LOVE
Here is love
And there is fragrance.
There the mangoes are in bloom.
Here hohilas
Are singing in the fifth.
The season is ripe.
Bees float on the air,
Inhaling pollen,
Sucking honey.
The god of love
Is secretly Setting
Flower-arrows to his bow....
'Here kokilas
Are singing in the fifth.'
Each note in the Indian octave is derived from the cry or call
of an animal or bird—the fifth note being supposedly modelled on
the cry of the kokila, the first on that of a peacock, and so
on.
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HONEY IS LIFE
In the midst of thorns
Blossom flowers.
The foiled bee
Is wild with rage.
O Malati,
My white fragrant flower,
Watching you,
Over and over again,
He longs to drink.
The anxious bee
Floats from spot to spot.
Away from you
He knows no rest.
Honey is his life.
O Malati,
My ocean of honey,
Are you not ashamed to hoard it?
Whom can you blame for his death
If you are the murderer?
Thorns' are a symbol for the lover's difficulties.'Malati' or
jasmine is both a symbol for a lovely girl and a means )f
adorning the hair.
Maids
decorate their mass of curly hair
Dark
like the rain-cloud,
With
the fresh buds of the trailing malati.
(KALIDASA, The Seasons)
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AS THE AUTUMN MOON
The darkness of separation is over.
Your face glows as the autumn moon.
Raise your eyes, 0 lovely darling,
Listen to my words,
This is no time for shyness.
O MAlati,
My flower of fragrant honey,
Your lover is here.
Let the bee take
His fill of sweetness.
King of the season,
Spring, too, is here.
Fulfil your promise.
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