Bilhana

Kavi Bilhana was an 11th-century Kashmiri poet. He is known for his love poem, the Chaurisurata Panchashika or Chaura Panchashika Quotes thumb|My thought is all of this gold-tinted king's daughter. I am to die! yet I remember, dying, My soul's delight — my sweet unequalled, love, Like a fresh champak's golden blossom lying, Her smile its opening leaves; and, bright above, Over her sleepful brow those lustrous tresses, Dark-winding down, tangled with love's caresses. Chauraspanchasika, st. 1 (tr. Edwin Arnold, 1896) My thought is all of this gold-tinted king's daughterWith garlands tissue and golden buds,Smoke tangles of her hair, and sleeping or wakingFeet trembling in love, full of pale languor;My thought is clinging as to a lost learning Slipped down out of the minds of men, Labouring to bring her back into my soul. Chauraspanchasika, st. 1 (tr. E. Powys Mathers, 1921). Cf. the French translation by Hippolyte Fauche (1852): À cette heure même, ma pensée est toute à cette fille de roi, au teint doré, aux guirlandes tissues avec le tchampaka à fleurs d’or, — au visage de lotus épanoui, aux touffes soyeuses de cheveux, — aux membres agités par l'amour, soit qu’elle dorme ou qu’elle veille, et tout remplis d'une voluptueuse langueur: — ma pensée, dis-je, est sur elle, comme sur une science, échappée faute de soin, et qu'on s'applique à ramener dans son esprit. I see....her body beaten about with flame,Wounded by the flaring spear of love....Then is my heart buried alive in snow. Chauraspanchasika, st. 2 (tr. E. Powys Mathers, 1921) If my girl with lotus eyes came to me againWeary with the dear weight of young love,Again I would give her to these starved twins of armsAnd from her mouth drink down the heavy wine,As a reeling pirate bee in fluttered easeSteals up the honey from the nenuphar. Chauraspanchasika, st. 3 (tr. E. Powys Mathers, 1921) I see her — far face blond like gold,Rich with small lights, and tinted shadowsOver and over all of her....* * * * * * * *Her scented armsLay like cool bindweed over against my neck.* * * * * * * *When slow rose-yellow moons looked out at night,To guard the sheaves of harvest and mark down The peach's fall, how calm she was and love-worthy!* * * * * * * *The salt of the whispers of my girl, Murmurs of confused colors as we lay near sleep;Little wise words and little witty words, Wanton as water, honied with eagerness. Chauraspanchasika, sts. 10, 4, 29, 24 (tr. E. Powys Mathers, 1921) My eyes that hurry to see no more are painting, painting Faces of my lost girl. O golden rings, That tap against cheeks of small magnolia leaves, O whitest so soft parchment where My poor divorced lips have written excellent Stanzas of kisses, and will write no more. Chauraspanchasika, st. 12 (tr. E. Powys Mathers, 1921) They chatter her weakness through the two bazaars Who was so strong to love me. And small men That buy and sell for silver being slaves Crinkle the fat about their eyes; and yet No Prince of the Cities of the Sea has taken her, Leading to his grim bed. Little lonely one, You clung to me as a garment clings; my girl. Chauraspanchasika, st. 21 (tr. E. Powys Mathers, 1921) Love is a god and Rati the dark his bride;But once I found their child and she was fairer,That could so shine. And we were each to eachWonderful and a presence not yet feltIn any dream. Chauraspanchasika, st. 30 (tr. E. Powys Mathers, 1921) I love long black eyes that caress like silk,Ever and ever sad and laughing eyes,Whose lids make such sweet shadow when they closeIt seems another beautiful look of hers.I love a fresh mouth, ah, a scented mouth,And curving hair, subtle as a smoke,And light fingers, and laughter of green gems. Chauraspanchasika, st. 35 (tr. E. Powys Mathers, 1921) Death I take up as consolation. Nay, were I free as the condor with his wings Or old kings throned on violet ivory, Night would not come without beds of green floss And never a bed without my bright darling. Chauraspanchasika, st. 49 (tr. E. Powys Mathers, 1921) I know that I have savoured the hot taste of life Lifting green cups and gold at the great feast. Chauraspanchasika, st. 50 (tr. E. Powys Mathers, 1921) External links "Black Marigolds" at SacredTexts Category:Poets from India