THE SARAYU RIVER
Oh, the beauty of River Sarayu that flows
In the great Kosala country where the arrows
Of our five senses and young women’s sharp eyes
Do not distract one from the dharmic path.
Clouds white like the auspicious ash one sees
On Lord Shiva’s forehead leave a beauteous trail
As they glide in the sky. Those white clouds
Drink water from the ocean and turn azure
Like Lord Mahāvishṇu’s own hue.
Noticing that the Himalayan range
Being slowly warmed by the sun
The clouds that rising from the oceans
Often the tall mountains.
Of what an awesome sight it is
To see the water climb
To the mountain peak!
Those showers of rain on that mountain
Are much like wires of silver.
The clouds do often pour down
Huge amounts of water as if
To show their unlimited generosity,
Not unlike the fame of a great monarch
Who adhered to the laws of dharma
Very like the great Manu,
And resembling also very much
Like the wonderful gifts given to rishis
Who acquire the wisdom of the Vedas.
Those torrents that fall as rain
Are not unlike women who sell their bodies,
For they clasp the head, and chest and legs
Of men and promptly leave them
After obtaining the price for it.
And those waters too, after full embrace
Of the mountain from head to foot flow away
After soaking lots of wealth.
That water bears comparison to merchants
For it took away in its flow lots and lots of things
Gold, precious stones, peacock feathers, ivory tusks,
Logs of precious sandalwood trees and much more.
The torrential downpour was not unlike the rainbow,
Reflecting as it did the multi-colors of flowers, minerals,
Honey, gold and even the saliva of elephants.
Very much as in Rāma’s causeway, bits of rocks
As well as of uprooted trees and leaves were all
Impediments to smooth water-flow.
There were flies and wasps all around,
All drawn by the resulting odor. They reminded one
Of drunken belching men who are now oblivious
To their heritage, dignity, and station in life.
The loud resounding sound caused by the water-flow
Sounded like herds of elephants and other beasts
Marching in the neighborhood.
It was as if the deluge was getting prepared
For an imminent battle with the royal Sea.
Over the ages this great river had absorbed
The majesty of countless kings
Of the Solar Dynasty. It had indeed
Never-failingly nourished, like maternal breasts,
Countless creatures in a world enclosed be seas.
Its fragrant waters came from the powders
Prepared by women of the hill-region,
Consisting of saffron, koshtam, cardamom,
Sandalwood, cassia, silken linen, medicinal hebs,
And lots of similar ingredients.
Now and then the gushing Sarayu flooded
Countless hamlets of hunters and ruined them
Just like the invading armies that bring
Enormous agony their victims everywhere,
Causing the womenfolk to beat themselves
In their unexpected pain and suffering.
The water emptied things stored in pots,
Like frozen curd, flavored milk, and pure ghee,
Ripped off the clothes of milk doe-eyed milk-maids,
Reminding one of Lord Krishna’s frolics.
Water-flow made the landscape hilly,
It grew a forest in the fertile tract,
Indeed the whole land into a cultivable land.
In other words, the Sarayu River had great power
Over the land it flowed through,
Not unlike the impact of good and bad deeds
In various reincarnations.
The cultivators could hear the sounds
Of the waters that powerfully flowed,
Splashing big droplet here and there,
As if spilling on land pearls and gold.
These gushing waters flowed in he land
And they became countless canals,
Not unlike tree ranches.
From its genesis in the Himalayan range
And merging in the ocean
The reiver defies all description
Very much like the Almighty whom
Even the Vedas cannot describe in full.
Just as the one and only God is seen
Differently by different people
This river does not look the same
In all places: I spears to be a lake here,
A tank there, a stream or a canal elsewhere.
Not unlike life that enters the body
In four different modes, the surging Sarayu
Flowed through groves think forests,
Tanks and gardens and with frail creepers.
Spurts of Thought 