TIRUKKURAL, Mysticism, reading, forums, Numerology, Sun Signs, Divination

Posts: 4397 · Posted: Sun Aug 03, 2008 7:32 am

3.2.4. The Pallid Hue

1181
I willed my lover absent should remain;
Of pining's sickly hue to whom shall I complain?
I who (then) consented to the absence of my loving lord, to whom can I (now) relate the fact of my having turned sallow.

1182
'He gave': this sickly hue thus proudly speaks,
Then climbs, and all my frame its chariot makes.
Sallowness, as if proud of having been caused by him, would now ride on my person.

1183
Of comeliness and shame he me bereft,
While pain and sickly hue, in recompense, he left.
He has taken (away) my beauty and modesty, and given me instead disease and sallowness.

1184
I meditate his words, his worth is theme of all I say,
This sickly hue is false that would my trust betray.
I think (of him); and what I speak about is but his excellence; still is there sallowness; and this is
deceitful.

1185
My lover there went forth to roam;
This pallor of my frame usurps his place at home.
Just as my lover departed then, did not sallowness spread here on my person ?

1186
As darkness waits till lamp expires, to fill the place,
This pallor waits till I enjoy no more my lord's embrace.
Just as darkness waits for the failing light; so does sallowness wait for the laxity of my husband's intercourse.

1187
I lay in his embrace, I turned unwittingly;
Forthwith this hue, as you might grasp it, came on me.
I who was in close embrace just turned aside and the moment I did so, sallowness came on me like something to be seized on.

1188
On me, because I pine, they cast a slur;
But no one says, 'He first deserted her.'
Besides those who say "she has turned sallow" there are none who say "he has forsaken her".

1189
Well! let my frame, as now, be sicklied o'er with pain,
If he who won my heart's consent, in good estate remain!
If he is clear of guilt who has conciliated me (to his departure) let my body suffer its due and turn sallow.

1190
'Tis well, though men deride me for my sickly hue of pain;
If they from calling him unkind, who won my love, refrain.
It would be good to be said of me that I have turned sallow, if friends do not reproach with unkindness him who pleased me (then).

3.2.5. The Solitary Anguish

1191
The bliss to be beloved by those they love who gains,
Of love the stoneless, luscious fruit obtains.
The women who are beloved by those whom they love, have they have not got the stone-less fruit of sexual delight ?

1192
As heaven on living men showers blessings from above,
Is tender grace by lovers shown to those they love.
The bestowal of love by the beloved on those who love them is like the rain raining (at the proper season) on those who live by it.

1193
Who love and are beloved to them alone
Belongs the boast, 'We've made life's very joys our own.'
The pride that says "we shall live" suits only those who are loved by their beloved (husbands).

1194
Those well-beloved will luckless prove,
Unless beloved by those they love.
Even those who are esteemed (by other women) are devoid of excellence, if they are not loved by their beloved.

1195
From him I love to me what gain can be,
Unless, as I love him, he loveth me?
He who is beloved by me, what will he do to me, if I am not beloved by him ?

1196
Love on one side is bad; like balanced load
By porter borne, love on both sides is good.
Lust, like the weight of the KAVADI, pains if it lies in one end only but pleases if it is in both.

1197
While Kaman rushes straight at me alone,
Is all my pain and wasting grief unknown?
Would not cupid who abides and contends in one party (only) witness the pain and sorrow (in that party)?

1198
Who hear from lover's lips no pleasant word from day to day,
Yet in the world live out their life,- no braver souls than they!
There is no one in the world so hard-hearted as those who can live without receiving (even) a kind word from their beloved.

1199
Though he my heart desires no grace accords to me,
Yet every accent of his voice is melody.
Though my beloved bestows no love on one, still are his words sweet to my ears.

1200
Tell him thy pain that loves not thee?
Farewell, my soul, fill up the sea!
Live, O my soul, would you who relate your great sorrow to strangers, try rather to fill up your own sea (of sorrow).

3.2.6. Sad Memories

1201
From thought of her unfailing gladness springs,
Sweeter than palm-rice wine the joy love brings.
Sexuality is sweeter than liquor, because when remembered, it creates a most rapturous delight.

1202
How great is love! Behold its sweetness past belief!
Think on the lover, and the spirit knows no grief.
Even to think of one's beloved gives one no pain. Sexuality, in any degree, is always delightful.

1203
A fit of sneezing threatened, but it passed away;
He seemed to think of me, but do his fancies stray?
I feel as if I am going to sneeze but do not, and (therefore) my beloved is about to think (of me) but does not.

1204
Have I a place within his heart!
From mine, alas! he never doth depart.
He continues to abide in my soul, do I likewise abide in his ?

1205
Me from his heart he jealously excludes:
Hath he no shame who ceaseless on my heart intrudes?
He who has imprisoned me in his soul, is he ashamed to enter incessantly into mine.

1206
How live I yet? I live to ponder o'er
The days of bliss with him that are no more.
I live by remembering my (former) intercourse with him; if it were not so, how could I live ?

1207
If I remembered not what were I then? And yet,
The fiery smart of what my spirit knows not to forget!
I have never forgotten (the pleasure); even to think of it burns my soul; could I live, if I should ever forget it ?

1208
My frequent thought no wrath excites. It is not so?
This honour doth my love on me bestow.
He will not be angry however much I may think of him; is it not so much the delight my beloved affords me ?

1209
Dear life departs, when his ungracious deeds I ponder o'er,
Who said erewhile, 'We're one for evermore'.
My precious life is wasting away by thinking too much on the cruelty of him who said we were not different.

1210
Set not; so may'st thou prosper, moon! that eyes may see
My love who went away, but ever bides with me.
May you live, O Moon! Do not set, that I mine see him who has departed without quitting my soul.