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Robert Louis Stevenson Prelude By sunny market-place and street Wherever I go my drum I beat, And wherever I go in my coat of red The ribbons flutter about my head. I seek recruits for wars to come - For slaughterless wars I beat the drum, And the shilling I give to each new ally Is hope to live and courage to die. I know that new recruits shall come Wherever I beat the sounding drum, Till the roar of the march by country and town Shall shake the tottering Dagons down. For I was objectless as they And loitering idly day by day; But whenever I heard the recruiters come, I left my all to follow the drum.
Translation BG 12.9: If you are unable to fix your mind steadily on Me, O Arjun, then practice remembering Me with devotion while constantly restraining the mind from worldly affairs.
Robert Louis Stevenson After Reading Antony and Cleopatra As when the hunt by holt and field Drives on with horn and strife, Hunger of hopeless things pursues Our spirits throughout life. The sea's roar fills us aching full Of objectless desire - The sea's roar, and the white moon-shine, And the reddening of the fire. Who talks to me of reason now? It would be more delight To have died in Cleopatra's arms Than be alive to-night.
"About the Sheltered Garden Ground" About the sheltered garden ground The trees stand strangely still. The vale ne'er seemed so deep before, Nor yet so high the hill. An awful sense of quietness, A fulness of repose, Breathes from the dewy garden-lawns, The silent garden rows. As the hoof-beats of a troop of horse Heard far across a plain, A nearer knowledge of great thoughts Thrills vaguely through my brain. I lean my head upon my arm, My heart's too full to think; Like the roar of seas, upon my heart Doth the morning stillness sink.
Robert Louis Stevenson "The Relic Taken, What Avails the Shrine?" The relic taken, what avails the shrine? The locket, pictureless? O heart of mine, Art thou not worse than that, Still warm, a vacant nest where love once sat? Her image nestled closer at my heart Than cherished memories, healed every smart And warmed it more than wine Or the full summer sun in noon-day shine. This was the little weather gleam that lit The cloudy promontories - the real charm was That gilded hills and woods And walked beside me thro' the solitudes. The sun is set. My heart is widowed now Of that companion-thought. Alone I plough The seas of life, and trace A separate furrow far from her and grace.
Robert Louis Stevenson The Commissioners of Northern Lights I send to you, commissioners, A paper that may please ye, sirs (For troth they say it might be worse An' I believe't) And on your business lay my curse Before I leav't. I thocht I'd serve wi' you, sirs, yince, But I've thocht better of it since; The maitter I will nowise mince, But tell ye true: I'll service wi' some ither prince, An' no wi' you. I've no been very deep, ye'll think, Cam' delicately to the brink An' when the water gart me shrink Straucht took the rue, An' didna stoop my fill to drink - I own it true. I kent on cape and isle, a light Burnt fair an' clearly ilka night; But at the service I took fright, As sune's I saw, An' being still a neophite Gaed straucht awa'. Anither course I now begin, The weeg I'll cairry for my sin, The court my voice shall echo in, An' - wha can tell? - Some ither day I may be yin O' you mysel'.
Robert Louis Stevenson The Vanquished Knight I have left all upon the shameful field, Honour and Hope, my God, and all but life; Spurless, with sword reversed and dinted shield, Degraded and disgraced, I leave the strife. From him that hath not, shall there not be taken E'en that he hath, when he deserts the strife? Life left by all life's benefits forsaken, O keep the promise, Lord, and take the life.
Tell me, is it you আমায় দাও গো ব'লে Amay dao go bole (audio) Tell me, is it you who makes waves of unease? Strikes my heart, makes it ripple, but I can't see. I can't see who it is, and it scares me. I am not aware, I need not be uneasy. I shall wipe my tears and smile now. The one that cradles, will hold me. Translated by Ananda Email This BlogThis! Share to Twitter Share to Facebook Share to Pinterest Category Devotion - Puja
BG 6.14: Thus, with a serene, fearless, and unwavering mind, and staunch in the vow of celibacy, the vigilant yogi should meditate on Me, having Me alone as the supreme goal.
Let me be with my own thoughts আমায় থাকতে দে-না আপন-মনে amay thakte de na Let me be with my own thoughts I recall and relive his touch each moment Who can distract me much longer In a spin of words and a spiral of work I sit in a secret corner and wreathe A welcome garland in his memory This jewel like pain that he bequeathed I hold it close and set out at day end On a solitary journey to seek him I stand before him with tearful eyes I bedeck him with his own riches Translated by Rumela Sengupta Email This BlogThis! Share to Twitter Share to Facebook Share to Pinterest Category Love - Prem
What fear have we of anyone? আমাদের ভয় কাহারে Amader bhoy kahare What fear have we of anyone? Decrepit, old pirates, thieves, What harm can they come? Our pathway moves forward, No alleys do we seek, We have no pouch to carry, Accounts, we do not keep. They may rob us of everything, But our madness will not leave. We do not look for comfort, It isn't rest we plead, Results, we do not pursue, Nor fame we wish to meet. In our tide and ebb We dance alike, We play the same In loss or gain. Translated by Ananda Email This BlogThis! Share to Twitter Share to Facebook Share to Pinterest Category DD - Phalguni, Melange - Bichitra
the mystery that sets us wild আমাদের খেপিয়ে বেড়ায় যে Amader khepiye beray je (Sasha Ghoshal and chorus) Something spurs us on with divine wildness does anyone know where the mystery is concealed? the spring breeze raves with affine madness, a tornado spinning the sun and stars have you felt the free rhythm that simmers the mad sea? a flow which creates dance and makes us dancers? let us toss burdens and go places why sweat the pathway? as we tread, so is it paved below our feet. Translated by Ananda Email This BlogThis! Share to Twitter Share to Facebook Share to Pinterest Category DD - Phalguni, Devotion - Puja
We are but children আমরা যে শিশু অতি amra je shishu oti We are but children, our minds immature At each step, O Father, we slip and fall Why then show us your wrathful form Why the occasional frown Pray, do not be angry with us Tell us gently where we have erred A thousand times you pick us up A thousand times we fall, we fail Such is the lot of the frail The earth is our home It's dust blinds our vision We were born as children And so with dust we play Give us courage O Lord You who are the refuge of the weak Assure us of your presence If we make one mistake Will you never draw us to your lap Will you then turn away And leave us grounded With our consciousness forever veiled Translated by Rumela Sengupta Email This BlogThis! Share to Twitter Share to Facebook Share to Pinterest Category Devotion n Prayer - Puja o Prarthona
Translation BG 11.16: I see Your infinite form in every direction, with countless arms, stomachs, faces, and eyes. O Lord of the universe, whose form is the universe itself, I do not see in You any beginning, middle, or end.
Robert Louis Stevenson Duddingstone With caws and chirrupings, the woods In this thin sun rejoice. The Psalm seems but the little kirk That sings with its own voice. The cloud-rifts share their amber light With the surface of the mere - I think the very stones are glad To feel each other near. Once more my whole heart leaps and swells And gushes o'er with glee; The fingers of the sun and shade Touch music stops in me. Now fancy paints that bygone day When you were here, my fair - The whole lake rang with rapid skates In the windless winter air. You leaned to me, I leaned to you, Our course was smooth as flight - We steered - a heel-touch to the left, A heel-touch to the right. We swung our way through flying men, Your hand lay fast in mine: We saw the shifting crowd dispart, The level ice-reach shine. I swear by yon swan-travelled lake, By yon calm hill above, I swear had we been drowned that day We had been drowned in love.
G 11.26-27: I see all the sons of Dhritarashtra, along with their allied kings, including Bheeshma, Dronacharya, Karn, and also the generals from our side, rushing headlong into Your fearsome mouths. I see some with their heads smashed between Your terrible teeth.
Robert Louis Stevenson De Erotio Puella This girl was sweeter than the song of swans, And daintier than the lamb upon the lawns Or Curine oyster. She, the flower of girls, Outshone the light of Erythraean pearls; The teeth of India that with polish glow, The untouched lilies or the morning snow. Her tresses did gold-dust outshine And fair hair of women of the Rhine. Compared to her the peacock seemed not fair, The squirrel lively, or the phoenix rare; Her on whose pyre the smoke still hovering waits; Her whom the greedy and unequal fates On the sixth dawning of her natal day, My child-love and my playmate - snatcht away.
Robert Louis Stevenson Ad Piscatorem For these are sacred fishes all Who know that lord that is the lord of all; Come to the brim and nose the friendly hand That sways and can beshadow all the land. Nor only so, but have their names, and come When they are summoned by the Lord of Rome. Here once his line an impious Lybian threw; And as with tremulous reed his prey he drew, Straight, the light failed him. He groped, nor found the prey that he had ta'en. Now as a warning to the fisher clan Beside the lake he sits, a beggarman. Thou, then, while still thine innocence is pure, Flee swiftly, nor presume to set thy lure; Respect these fishes, for their friends are great; And in the waters empty all thy bait.
Robert Louis Stevenson Away With Funeral Music Away with funeral music - set The pipe to powerful lips - The cup of life's for him that drinks And not for him that sips.
Robert Louis Stevenson "Stout Marches Lead to Certain Ends" Stout marches lead to certain ends, We seek no Holy Grail, my friends - That dawn should find us every day Some fraction farther on our way. The dumb lands sleep from east to west, They stretch and turn and take their rest. The cock has crown in the steading-yard, But priest and people slumber hard. We two are early forth, and hear The nations snoring far and near. So peacefully their rest they take, It seems we are the first awake! Strong heart! this is no royal way, A thousand cross-roads seek the day; And, hid from us, to left and right, A thousand seekers seek the light.
BG 12.13-14: Those devotees are very dear to Me who are free from malice toward all living beings, who are friendly, and compassionate. They are free from attachment to possessions and egotism, equipoised in happiness and distress, and ever-forgiving. They are ever-content, steadily united with Me in devotion, self-controlled, of firm resolve, and dedicated to Me in mind and intellect.
Robert Louis Stevenson Ad Olum Call me not rebel, though { here at every word {in what I sing If I no longer hail thee { King and Lord { Lord and King I have redeemed myself with all I had, And now possess my fortunes poor but glad. With all I had I have redeemed myself, And escaped at once from slavery and pelf. The unruly wishes must a ruler take, Our high desires do our low fortunes make: Those only who desire palatial things Do bear the fetters and the frowns of Kings; Set free thy slave; thou settest free thyself.

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