Caleb's metric rendering

[madanmohandas]

svasaMkalpAnuvidhAyisvarUpasthitipravrttibhedAzeSazeSataikaratirUpanityaniravadyaniratizayajnAnakriyaizvaryAdyanantaguNagaNApamitasUribhih anavaratAbhiSTutacaraNayugalah, vAnmanasAparicchedyasvarUpasvabhAvah, svocitavividhavicitrAnantabhogyabhogopakaraNabhogasthAnasamrddhAnantAzcaryAnantamahAvibhavAnantaparimANanityaniravadyAksaraparamavyomanilayah, vividhavicitrAnantabhogyabhoktrivargaparipUrNAnikhilajagadudayavibhavalayalIlah, paraM brahma puruSottamo nArAyaNo brahmAdisthAvarantam akhilam jagat srSTvA svena rUpeNa avasthitah, brahmAdidevamanuSyANAM dhyAnAradhanAdyagocarah api apArakAruNyasauzIlyavAtsalyaudAryamahodadhih, svameva rUpaM tattatsvajAtIyasaMsthAnaM ajahad eva kurvan teSu teSu lokeSu avatIrya avatIrya taih taih ArAdhitah, tattadiSTAnurUpaM dharmArthakAmamoksAkhyaM phalaM prayacchan, bhUbhArAvatAraNApadezena asmADInAmapi samAzrayaNiyatvAya avatIrya urvyAM sakalamanujanayanaviSayatAM gatah, parAvaranikhilajanamanonayanahAridivyaceSTitAni kurvan, pUtanAzakaTayamalArjunAriSTapralambadhenukakAliyakezikuvalayApIDacANuramuSTikatosalakaMsAdinnihatya anavadhikadayAsauhArdAnurAgagarbhavilokanAlApAmrtaih, vizvamApyayan niratizayasaundaryasauzIlyAdiguNagaNAviSkAreNa akruramAlAkARAdin paramabhAgavatAn krtvA pANDutanayayudhaprotsAhanavyAjena paramapuruSArthalaksaNamoksasAdhanatayA vedAntoditaM jnAnakarmAnugrihItaM bhaktiyogamavatArayAmAsa/
tatra pANDavAnAM kurUNAM ca yudhe prArabdhe sa bhagavAn puruSottamah sarvezvarezvaro jagadupakrtimartya AzritavAtsalyavivazah pArtha rathim AtmAnaM ca sArathiM sarvalokasAksikaM cakAra/
evamarjunasya utkarSa jnAtvA api sarvAtmanA andho dhrtarASTrah suyodhanavijayabubhutsayA saMjayaM papraccha/

iti

[Nitaidas]

Anyone found any corrections? I am about to post an updated version.

[madanmohandas]

Still cant lauch acrobat despite updating it.

[Nitaidas]

Jun 22, 2011 2:56:46 GMT -6 madanmohandas said:

Still cant lauch acrobat despite updating it.

Does anyone else have this problem? It seems to open well enough for me using acrobat reader, but Jagadish said he had some problems, too. Are you using an Apple computer, madanmohanji? Please keep me posted. This worries me.

[madanmohandas]

Nope. Just downloaded another update for it but still no good. I'm using windows XP. I have a computer-expert aquaintance coming over tomorrow to see what's up. Will let you know.

[madanmohandas]

OK. Fixed problem with reader. It will now take a while to go through.

[Nitaidas]

Jun 28, 2011 6:04:14 GMT -6 madanmohandas said:

OK. Fixed problem with reader. It will now take a while to go through.

Good. Glad to hear it. Let me get the most recent version up. It has changed some.

[Nitaidas]

Here is the latest version of the typeset book. The book is now 375 pages. The summaries of the Gita by Sankara, Yamunacarya, Ramanuja, Madhusudana Sarasvati, and Visvanatha are done and Baladva Vidyabhusana is half done. There is also a start of an introduction. I don't want to carry on too much more, but I did want to try to argue the case that the Gita is not a book that promotes violence. This is often the shallow view taken by modern readers.

Any other suggestions?


Here

[madanmohandas]

Looks great! 1.14 needs the last line to begin with caps. 1.18 has mighty arm and should be mighty arms. 1.25 has a 'He' not required in the 3rd line,' And said'; who said carries over from 24 with ' Then Hrsikesh........etc.

In ch 3.
3.9. the last line had 'engage' at the end i.e., ' In works of sacrifice engage.'
3.21. has 'it' and should be 'That'. i.e., 'That copied is.......etc'
3.22. should be ' There nothing is....' and not 'there is nothing.

[Nitaidas]

Thanks, madanmohanji. I will make those corrections. Keep them coming.

Anyone checking the Sanskrit? I've noticed a flaw here and there.

[vkaul1]

" I don't want to carry on too much more, but I did want to try to argue the case that the Gita is not a book that promotes violence. "

Did you argue the case already?

[madanmohandas]

6.11. should be 'Too lofty niether nor too low'
6.23. should be ' This yoga should e'er be practised' with an accent over the 'e' in 'pactis(e)d.
The Chapter headings are not numbered. I don't know if that is intentional or not. It might be useful to number them, or maybe I just missed something.
It certainly is a delight to read it.

It would seem superficial to suggest that the text either promotes or discourages violence. Obviously as a warrior Arjuna is bound use force. There is a very interesting dialogue between Sita and Rama regarding the effect of carrying a weapon.

[madanmohandas]

CANTO IX.: SITA'S SPEECH.

Trans. Ralph Griffith

Blest by the sage, when Raghu's son
His onward journey had begun,
Thus in her soft tone Sítá, meek
With modest fear, began to speak:
'One little slip the great may lead
To shame that follows lawless deed:
Such shame, my lord, as still must cling
To faults from low desire that spring.
Three several sins defile the soul,
Born of desire that spurns control:
First, utterance of a lying word,
Then, viler both, the next, and third:
The lawless love of other's wife,
The thirst of blood uncaused by strife.
The first, O Ragnu's son, in thee
None yet has found, none e'er shall see.
Love of another's dame destroys
All merit, lost for guilty joys:
Ráma, such crime in thee, I ween,
Has ne'er been found, shall ne'er be seen:
The very thought, my princely lord,
Is in thy secret soul abhorred.
For thou hast ever been the same
Fond lover of thine own dear dame,
Content with faithful heart to do
Thy father's will, most just and true:
Justice, and faith, and many a grace
In thee have found a resting-place.
Such virtues, Prince, the good may gain
Who empire o'er each sense retain;
And well canst thou, with loving view
Regarding all, each sense subdue,
But for the third, the lust that strives,
Insatiate still, for others' lives,--
Fond thirst of blood where hate is none,--
This, O my lord, thou wilt not shun.
Thou hast but now a promise made,
The saints of Danndak wood to aid:
And to protect their lives from ill
The giants' blood in tight wilt spill:
And from thy promise lasting fame
Will glorify the forest's name.
Armed with thy bow and arrows thou
Forth with thy brother journeyest now
While as I think how true thou art
Fears for thy bliss assail my heart,
And all my spirit at the sight
Is troubled with a strange affright.
I like it not--it seems not good--
Thy going thus to Damdak wood:
And I, if thou wilt mark me well,
The reason of my fear will tell.
Thou with thy brother, bow in hand,
Beneath those ancient trees wilt stand,
And thy keen arrows will not spare
Wood-rovers who will meet thee there.
For as the fuel food supplies
That bids the dormant flame arise,
Thus when the warrior grasps his bow
He feels his breast with ardour glow.
Deep in a holy grove, of yore,
Where bird and beast from strife forbore,
S'achi beneath the sheltering boughs,
A truthful hermit kept his vows.
Then Indra, S'achi's heavenly lord,
Armed like a warrior with a sword,
Came to his tranquil home to spoil
The hermit of his holy toil,
And left the glorious weapon there
Entrusted to the hermit's care,
A pledge for him to keep, whose mind
To fervent zeal was all resigned.
He took the brand: with utmost heed
He kept it for the warrior's need:
To keep his trust he fondly strove
When roaming in the neighbouring grove:
Whene'er for roots and fruit he strayed
Still by his side he bore the blade:
Still on his sacred charge intent,
He took his treasure when he went.
As day by day that brand he wore,
The hermit, rich in merit's store
From penance rites each thought withdrew,
And fierce and wild his spirit grew.
With heedless soul he spurned the right,
And found in cruel deeds delight.
So, living with the sword, he fell,
A ruined hermit, down to hell.
This tale applies to those who deal
Too closely with the warrior's steel:
The steel to warriors is the same
As fuel to the smouldering flame.
Sincere affection prompts my speech:
I honour where I fain would teach.
Mayst thou, thus armed with shaft and bow,
So dire a longing never know
As, when no hatred prompts the fray,
These giants of the wood to slay:
For he who kills without offence
Shall win but little glory thence
The bow the warrior joys to bend
Is lent him for a nobler end,
That he may save and succour those
Who watch in woods when pressed by foes.
What, matched with woods, is bow or steel?
What, warrior's arm with hermit's zeal?
We with such might have naught to do:
The forest rule should guide us too.
But when Ayodhyá hails thee lord,
Be then thy warrior life restored:
So shall thy sire 1 and mother joy
In bliss that naught may e'er destroy.
And if, resigning empire, thou
Submit thee to the hermit's vow,
The noblest gain from virtue springs,
And virtue joy unending brings.
All earthly blessings virtue sends:
On virtue all the world depends.
Those who with vow and fasting tame
To due restraint the mind and frame,
Win by their labour, nobly wise,
The highest virtue for their prize.
Pure in the hermit's grove remain,
True to thy duty, free from stain.
But the three worlds are open thrown
To thee, by whom all things are known.
Who gave me power that I should dare
His duty to my lord declare?
'Tis woman's fancy, light as air,
That moves my foolish breast.
Now with thy brother counsel take,
Reflect, thy choice with judgment make,
And do what seems the best.'

[madanmohandas]

CANTO X.: RÁMA'S REPLY.

The words that Sítá uttered, spurred
By truest love, the hero heard:
Then he who ne'er from virtue strayed
To Janak's child his answer made:
'In thy wise speech, sweet love, I find
True impress of thy gentle mind,
Well skilled the warrior's path to trace,
Thou pride of Janak's ancient race.
What fitting answer shall I frame
To thy good words, my honoured dame?
Thou sayst the warrior bears the bow
That misery's tears may cease to flow;
And those pure saints who love the shade
Of Dandak wood are sore dismayed.
They sought me of their own accord,
With suppliant prayers my aid implored:
They, fed on roots and fruit, who spend
Their lives where bosky wilds extend,
My timid love, enjoy no rest
By these malignant fiends distressed.
These make the flesh of man their meat:
The helpless saints they kill and eat.
The hermits sought my side, the chief
Of Brahman race declared their grief.
I heard, and from my lips there fell
The words which thou rememberest well:
I listened as the hermits cried,
And to their prayers I thus replied:
'Your favour, gracious lords, I claim,
O'erwhelmed with this enormous shame
That Bráhmans, great and pure as you,
Who should be sought, to me should sue.'
And then before the saintly crowd,
'What can I do?' I cried aloud.
Then from the trembling hermits broke
One long sad cry, and thus they spoke:
'Fiends of the wood, who wear at will
Each varied shape, afflict us still.
To thee in our distress we fly:
O help us, Ráma, or we die.
When sacred rites of fire are due,
When changing moons are full or new,
These fiends who bleeding flesh devour
Assail us with resistless power.
They with their cruel might torment
The hermits on their vows intent:
We look around for help and see
Our surest refuge, Prince, in thee.
We, armed with powers of penance, might
Destroy the rovers of the night:
But loth were we to bring to naught
The merit years of toil have bought.
Our penance rites are grown too hard,
By many a check and trouble barred,
But though our saints for food are slain
The withering curse we yet restrain.

Thus many a weary day distressed
By giants who this wood infest,
We see at length deliverance, thou
With Lakshman art our guardian now.'
As thus the troubled hermits prayed,
I promised, dame, my ready aid,
And now--for truth I hold most dear--
Still to my word must I adhere.
My love, I might endure to be
Deprived of Lakshman, life, and thee,
But ne'er deny my promise, ne'er
To Bráhmans break the oath I sware.
I must, enforced by high constraint,
Protect them all. Each suffering saint
In me, unasked, his help had found;
Still more in one by promise bound.
I know thy words, mine own dear dame,
From thy sweet heart's affection came:
I thank thee for thy gentle speech,
For those we love are those we teach.
'Tis like thyself, O fair of face,
'Tis worthy of thy noble race:
Dearer than life, thy feet are set
In righteous paths they ne'er forget.'
Thus to the Maithil monarch's child,
His own dear wife, in accents mild
The high-souled hero said:
Then to the holy groves which lay
Beyond them fair to see, their way
The bow-armed chieftain led.

[Nitaidas]

Jun 30, 2011 16:26:16 GMT -6 vkaul1 said:

" I don't want to carry on too much more, but I did want to try to argue the case that the Gita is not a book that promotes violence. "

Did you argue the case already?

No, I have not. I think that if one properly understands the teaching of the Gita, on comes to the conclusion of non-violence. I want to try to work the details of that out.