BOOK VII.
THE NYMPHS.
THE beauteous nymphs then left the sky, Attended by Gandharvas skilled, And joyous notes of drum and shell And sound of cars the blue vault filled. And eager denizens of the sky Poured forth to greet them as they went; The orb of day with upward beams Upon the nymphs his radiance lent. The toil of the unwonted march, The blowing breeze, the sun’s bright shine, Crimsoned their blushing cheeks and brow As with the gentle flush of wine! Celestial coursers fresh and powerful Drew the cars with speed of wind; Scarce the wheels did seem to roll, But sky and space flew quick behind! From regions far, close to the sun, Where his red rays are bright and strong, Far far they went, where like a braid Celestial Gangâ rolls along. Cooling zephyr, gently blowing, Saturate with Gangâ’s spray, Scented by the heavenly lotus, Cheered the damsels on their way. And in many a fold the clouds Spanned the space ’twixt earth and sky, And the steeds by drivers checked Lighted on the earth from high. The scented woods of Himalay, Blooming creepers, beauteous trees, Hailed the heavenly nymphs with joy, Honoured by their matchless grace! (8) And now the nymphs in quest of flowers Wandered through the woodland way, Unheeding many a shrub and blossom, So thick the flowers, so merry they! The maddened bee forsook the bush To cull the nectar from their arms; Their pink white hands were like young shoots, Their fingers wore the blossom’s charms! Sweetly flowed the mountain rill, Her sands were robed with Kusa chaste, And graceful strings of tuneful ducks Like chain of gold bedecked her waist! Cascades in silver masses fell, And spread afar in ripples bright; And all the wild woods seemed to smile With the spray so pearly white. And creepers oped their gentle blossoms Decked with strings of dark blue bees, Like tender-hearted gentle maidens With their soft and trustful eyes! (13) All around the blossoms hung As through the woods the damsels moved, With female art, for needless help, They asked the fond Gandharvas[^1] loved. Some nymph with lifted, blushing face, Still hung on soft tales whispered nigh; Her idle hand no blossom culled, The loosened robe forgot to tie! Some with flower-buds decked her ringlets, With her beauteous tapering arms, And scarce rebuked the loving swain Who gently clasped her swelling charms! Some sought her lover’s gentle aid To blow the pollen from her eye, And scarce the lover could regret The sweet mishap that drew him nigh! Laden with flowers the nymphs returned From flowering woods,—a merry band, Their weary feet scarce knew the way, And often slipped on even land! Their girdles rich in sparkling gems, Hung loose below their slender waist; The loosened zone proclaimed their languor, And their panting heaving breast! Their velvet cheeks were dewed with toil, Like lotus dimmed with streaks of snow! The gods in rapture viewed the nymphs, Their languid charms, their movements slow! (20) To Gangâ’s sparkling cooling wave The languid damsels slow repair; Where fishes glance through lilies blown, And notes of wild fowl fill the air. The eager waters clasped the nymphs, And played with garlands on their hair, And rashly washed their Chandan paints, In little wavelets fled afar! Some damsel hid, and others searched, Are those her eyes or lotus bright? Is that her hair or string of bees? Are those her teeth or lilies sweet? Some nymph on others water threw, Or washed and wet, yet lovelier shone! Her face was flushed, her bosom heaved, Scarce held her robe the loosened zone! The sportive nymphs arose at last, Like rain-washed lilies doubly bright, Still sparkling with the glistening drops, And radiant as the starry night! (25) So closed the day, and darkness fell O’er stream and forest, far and nigh, And beauty left the things of earth And shone upon the starry sky. Until the brightening eastern heaven, Streaked with silver, faintly shone, And pure and white as Ketak flower Spread the light of rising moon! Slowly rolled the flood of light O’er the dark and nightly sky, Like the Gangâ’s ruddy wave Mingling with the azure sea! Like a disk of burnished gold, Flooding earth and sky with light, From the distant eastern main Rose the glorious Lord of night! And he drew the veil of gloom From the face of earth so wide, As a kinsman draws the veil For to bless a bashful bride! (30) At dawn the heavenly nymphs arose, Decked themselves with jewels rare; Went to Arjun’s hermitage With sweet glances, graces rare! On their feet the tinkling bells, On their waists the sounding chain, With soft music filled the woods Till the birds sang back the strain! Pale with penances and rites, Clad in arms, but calm and great, Peaceful as the mighty Vedas, Arjun great at last they met! Radiant in a robe of light On the lofty hill he stood, Like the beauteous lord of night Seemed the lord of all the wood! Pale with penances,—but great, Warlike,—in his peaceful bower, Alone,—but strong as hosts in war, A saint,—but wielding Indra’s power! (35) To him, more than mortals mighty, Slow the artful damsels come, ’Conscious of their matchless beauty, Vain they know his rites and aim! Slow and soft a music soundeth Through the glades and o’er the hills; Every season brings its blessings, And the wood with rapture fills! Round the hermitage of Arjun Mâlâtis in blossoms grow; Washed by rains the lotus blossoms With a lovelier freshness blow! On the luscious berries feasting Kokils sing their joyous lay, Gladdening e’en the mourner’s bosom With their wondrous melody! Breezes blow through sweet Kadambas, Wafting peacocks’ notes of love, Gently fanning pious Arjun From his rites his heart to move! Mango blossoms lend their fragrance, Cooling zephyrs gently move, Spring and winter move conjointly Wakening gentle thoughts of love! On the jasmine’s opening blossoms, Shaken by the gentle breeze, Sweet as quivering lips of maidens, Love’s sweet kisses press the bees! Jasmine sweet nor lilies scented Ope so sweet, when darkness flies, As upon the saintly Arjun Oped the nymphs their merry eyes! (43) Before the saints the nymphs appear, And lightly step upon the grass; Their tender feet vermilion painted On the heather gently press! Some nymph behind her maid conceals— From coyness, or from female art,— Her sidelong glance on Arjun sends, Betraying feelings of her heart! Another frolics on the meadow In her blooming loveliness; The wanton zephyrs oft disclose Her budding charms, bewitching grace! Some damsel resteth on the green, On her fair hand her pale face raising, And with her soft and languid eyes Upon the beauteous hero gazing. Another sings with thirsty lips And frequent sighs some ancient lay, And her soft eyes and heaving bosom Speak the words she cannot say! Some sprightly nymph beside the tree From her sweet and laughing eyes Sends on Arjun tender darts, Rapid as the arrow flies! Another damsel scours the plain, Her loosened robes held on her breast But scarce her nimble feet can move, The slipping zone restrains her haste! But vain these blandishments and charms, And vain each winning female art! Still steadfast in its lofty faith, Unmoved like rock is Arjun’s heart! (51) Attended by their swains the nymphs withdrew, And Arjun, to his purpose ever true, With pious rites, and faith, ennobling, high, In prayers sought the Lord of earth and sky. (52)