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Translation BG 12.3-4: But those who worship the formless aspect of the Absolute Truth—the imperishable, the indefinable, the unmanifest, the all-pervading, the unthinkable, the unchanging, the eternal, and the immoveable—by restraining their senses and being even-minded everywhere, such persons, engaged in the welfare of all beings, also attain Me.
Robert Louis Stevenson De Hortis Julii Martialis My Martial owns a garden, famed to please, Beyond the glades of the Hesperides; Along Janiculum lies the chosen block Where the cool grottos trench the hanging rock. The moderate summit, something plain and bare, Tastes overhead of a serener air; And while the clouds besiege the vales below, Keeps the clear heaven and doth with sunshine glow. To the June stars that circle in the skies The dainty roofs of that tall villa rise. Hence do the seven imperial hills appear; And you may view the whole of Rome from here; Beyond, the Alban and the Tuscan hills; And the cool groves and the cool falling rills, Rubre Fidenae, and with virgin blood Anointed once Perenna's orchard wood. Thence the Flaminian, the Salarian way, Stretch far broad below the dome of day; And lo! the traveller toiling towards his home; And all unheard, the chariot speeds to Rome! For here no whisper of the wheels; and tho' The Mulvian Bridge, above the Tiber's flow, Hangs all in sight, and down the sacred stream The sliding barges vanish like a dream, The seaman's shrilling pipe not enters here, Nor the rude cries of porters on the pier. And if so rare the house, how rarer far The welcome and the weal that therein are! So free the access, the doors so widely thrown, You half imagine all to be your own.
Robert Louis Stevenson Ad Martialem Go(d) knows, my Martial, if we two could be To enjoy our days set wholly free; To the true life together bend our mind, And take a furlough from the falser kind. No rich saloon, nor palace of the great, Nor suit at law should trouble our estate; On no vainglorious statues should we look, But of a walk, a talk, a little book, Baths, wells and meads, and the veranda shade, Let all our travels and our toils be made. Now neither lives unto himself, alas! And the good suns we see, that flash and pass And perish; and the bell that knells them cries: "Another gone: O when will ye arise?"
Robert Louis Stevenson In Maximum Wouldst thou be free? I think it not, indeed; But if thou wouldst, attend this simple rede: When quite contented }thou canst dine at home Thou shall be free when } And drink a small wine of the march of Rome; When thou canst see unmoved thy neighbour's plate, And wear my threadbare toga in the gate; When thou hast learned to love a small abode, And not to choose a mistress a la mode: When thus contained and bridled thou shalt be, Then, Maximus, then first shalt thou be free.
Robert Louis Stevenson De Coenatione Micae Look round: You see a little supper room; But from my window, lo! great Caesar's tomb! And the great dead themselves, with jovial breath Bid you be merry and remember death.
BG 13.21: In the matter of creation, the material energy is responsible for cause and effect; in the matter of experiencing happiness and distress, the individual soul is declared responsible.
Robert Louis Stevenson Ad Quintilianum O chief director of the growing race, Of Rome the glory and of Rome the grace, Me, O Quintilian, may you not forgive Before from labour I make haste to live? Some burn to gather wealth, lay hands on rule, Or with white statues fill the atrium full. The talking hearth, the rafters sweet with smoke, Live fountains and rough grass, my line invoke: A sturdy slave, not too learned wife, Nights filled with slumber, and a quiet life.
Translation BG 13.8-12: Humbleness; freedom from hypocrisy; non-violence; forgiveness; simplicity; service of the Guru; cleanliness of body and mind; steadfastness; and self-control; dispassion toward the objects of the senses; absence of egotism; keeping in mind the evils of birth, disease, old age, and death; non-attachment; absence of clinging to spouse, children, home, and so on; even-mindedness amidst desired and undesired events in life; constant and exclusive devotion toward Me; an inclination for solitary places and an aversion for mundane society; constancy in spiritual knowledge; and philosophical pursuit of the Absolute Truth—all these I declare to be knowledge, and what is contrary to it, I call ignorance.
Robert Louis Stevenson Ad Magistrum Ludi (Unfinished Draft) Now in the sky And on the hearth of Now in a drawer the direful cane, That sceptre of the . . . reign, And the long hawser, that on the back Of Marsyas fell with many a whack, Twice hardened out of Scythian hides, Now sleep till the October ides. In summer if the boys be well.
Robert Louis Stevenson Ad Nepotem O Nepos, twice my neigh(b)our (since at home We're door by door, by Flora's temple dome; And in the country, still conjoined by fate, Behold our villas standing gate by gate), Thou hast a daughter, dearer far than life - Thy image and the image of thy wife. Thy image and thy wife's, and be it so! But why for her, { neglect the flowing } can { O Nepos, leave the } And lose the prime of thy Falernian? Hoard casks of money, if to hoard be thine; But let thy daughter drink a younger wine! Let her go rich and wise, in silk and fur; Lay down a { bin that shall } grow old with her; { vintage to } But thou, meantime, the while the batch is sound, With pleased companions pass the bowl around; Nor let the childless only taste delights, For Fathers also may enjoy their nights.
Robert Louis Stevenson In Charidemum You, Charidemus, who my cradle swung, And watched me all the days that I was young; You, at whose step the laziest slaves awake, And both the bailiff and the butler quake; The barber's suds now blacken with my beard, And my rough kisses make the maids afeared; But with reproach your awful eyebrows twitch, And for the cane, I see, your fingers itch. If something daintily attired I go, Straight you exclaim: "Your father did not so." And fuming, count the bottles on the board As though my cellar were your private hoard. Enough, at last: I have done all I can, And your own mistress hails me for a man
Robert Louis Stevenson In Lupum Beyond the gates thou gav'st a field to till; I have a larger on my window-sill. A farm, d'ye say? Is this a farm to you, Where for all woods I spay one tuft of rue, And that so rusty, and so small a thing, One shrill cicada hides it with a wing; Where one cucumber covers all the plain; And where one serpent rings himself in vain To enter wholly; and a single snail Eats all and exit fasting to the pool? Here shall my gardener be the dusty mole. My only ploughman the . . . mole. Here shall I wait in vain till figs be set, And till the spring disclose the violet. Through all my wilds a tameless mouse careers, And in that narrow boundary appears, Huge as the stalking lion of Algiers, Huge as the fabled boar of Calydon. And all my hay is at one swoop impresst By one low-flying swallow for her nest, Strip god Priapus of each attribute Here finds he scarce a pedestal to foot. The gathered harvest scarcely brims a spoon; And all my vintage drips in a cocoon. Generous are you, but I more generous still: Take back your farm and stand me half a gill!
appiness animates this world of yours আনন্দ রয়েছে জাগি ভুবনে তোমার Happiness animates this world of yours Because you are always nearby The blue sky is stunned into silence The sun, moon and stars string a garland of light upon it Your universe roves in joy across the vast space Nestled in your lap in the skies beyond I am a child in need of your refuge I gaze evermore at your affectionate face
Translation BG 14.17: From the mode of goodness arises knowledge, from the mode of passion arises greed, and from the mode of ignorance arise negligence and delusion.
As darkness descends আঁধার এল ব’লে Andhar elo bole Audio: Purba Daam As darkness descends Homes come live with light. By day I had cast my eyes away, But at night, I fathomed, I knew, whose play of life Danced within the rhythm of my heart. My sleepless mind warbled with songs Ever so often, like birds at dawn. When all bustle turned to silence, The spring drift gently stirred me awake With the rippling murmur of leaves.
In darkness, the lonely man আঁধার রাতে একলা পাগল যায় কেঁদে Andhar rate ekla pagol jay kende (audio: Suchitra Mitra) In darkness, the lonely man The crazed seeker, questions hard, `Won't you explain, soul of light, My dear mother, my sun, my dawn, Why you unleash the inky dark Why you hold back your face How you sorely break my heart!' `What magic do you articulate Through the glowing sunset-streak In bleeding sonnets of twilight?' `Till now, I have learned by heart Your deep, melodic harmony In the lilting, loving flute of life. I sense how the moment has come Now, to master the lute of death At your finishing grand concert.' Translated by Ananda Email This BlogThis! Share to Twitter Share to Facebook Share to Pinterest Category Melange - Bichitra
May joy flow from my flute আনন্দগান উঠুক তবে বাজি Anondogaan uthuk tobe baaji (audio) May joy flow from my flute—woebegone. I shall sail across the sea of tears. The wind says it's time to move on take all my sleepless nights. My heart dances with thunder laughing in endless waves. Who are you that can make a song? Make a song with my flute —woebegone. Stranger, give me a symphony never heard of, never sung. Make my ship float across with your upstream wind. A soul I have never seen pulls my heart, who could stay? I lost my hopes of a home. I fall headlong into the stars. Call of the wild, sing through my flute — woebegone
A cascade of joy is flowing আনন্দধারা বহিছে ভুবনে anondo dhara bohichhey bhuboney (audio) A cascade of joy flows through this world and beyond Night and day, ambrosia spills forth from heavens above The sun and the moon drink up the sweet nectar in fistfuls Ever luminous is their inextinguishable glow Ever bountiful is this earth with life and light Why are you lost in your own thoughts Why absorbed with self-centred goals Look around you Open up your heart Value little, this trifling pain of yours Let love permeate the void in your life Translated by Rumela Sengupta Email This BlogThis! Share to Twitter Share to Facebook Share to Pinterest Category Devotion - Puja

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7th HEAVEN ILLUSTRATED Arunoday Kar

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