The Bhagavad-Gita - - (speed reading book .TXT) 📗
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Works fetter him no more! Cut then atwain With sword of wisdom, Son of Bharata!
This doubt that binds thy heart-beats! cleave the bond Born of thy ignorance! Be bold and wise!
Give thyself to the field with me! Arise!
HERE ENDETH CHAPTER IV. OF THE BHAGAVAD-GITA, Entitled “Jnana Yog,”
Or “The Book of the Religion of Knowledge,”
Arjuna.
Yet, Krishna! at the one time thou dost laud Surcease of works, and, at another time, Service through work. Of these twain plainly tell Which is the better way?
Krishna.
To cease from works
Is well, and to do works in holiness
Is well; and both conduct to bliss supreme; But of these twain the better way is his Who working piously refraineth not.
That is the true Renouncer, firm and fixed, Who—seeking nought, rejecting nought—dwells proof Against the “opposites.”[FN#8] O valiant Prince!
In doing, such breaks lightly from all deed: ‘Tis the new scholar talks as they were two, This Sankhya and this Yoga: wise men know Who husbands one plucks golden fruit of both!
The region of high rest which Sankhyans reach Yogins attain. Who sees these twain as one Sees with clear eyes! Yet such abstraction, Chief!
Is hard to win without much holiness.
Whoso is fixed in holiness, self-ruled,
Pure-hearted, lord of senses and of self, Lost in the common life of all which lives—
A “Yogayukt”—he is a Saint who wends
Straightway to Brahm. Such an one is not touched By taint of deeds. “Nought of myself I do!”
Thus will he think-who holds the truth of truths—
In seeing, hearing, touching, smelling; when He eats, or goes, or breathes; slumbers or talks, Holds fast or loosens, opes his eyes or shuts; Always assured “This is the sense-world plays With senses.“He that acts in thought of Brahm, Detaching end from act, with act content, The world of sense can no more stain his soul Than waters mar th’ enamelled lotus-leaf.
With life, with heart, with mind,-nay, with the help Of all five senses—letting selfhood go—
Yogins toil ever towards their souls’ release.
Such votaries, renouncing fruit of deeds, Gain endless peace: the unvowed, the passion-bound, Seeking a fruit from works, are fastened down.
The embodied sage, withdrawn within his soul, At every act sits godlike in “the town
Which hath nine gateways,”[FN#9] neither doing aught Nor causing any deed. This world’s Lord makes Neither the work, nor passion for the work, Nor lust for fruit of work; the man’s own self Pushes to these! The Master of this World Takes on himself the good or evil deeds
Of no man—dwelling beyond! Mankind errs here By folly, darkening knowledge. But, for whom That darkness of the soul is chased by light, Splendid and clear shines manifest the Truth As if a Sun of Wisdom sprang to shed
Its beams of dawn. Him meditating still, Him seeking, with Him blended, stayed on Him, The souls illuminated take that road
Which hath no turning back—their sins flung off By strength of faith. [Who will may have this Light; Who hath it sees.] To him who wisely sees, The Brahman with his scrolls and sanctities, The cow, the elephant, the unclean dog,
The Outcast gorging dog’s meat, are all one.
The world is overcome—aye! even here!
By such as fix their faith on Unity.
The sinless Brahma dwells in Unity,
And they in Brahma. Be not over-glad
Attaining joy, and be not over-sad
Encountering grief, but, stayed on Brahma, still Constant let each abide! The sage whose sou Holds off from outer contacts, in himself Finds bliss; to Brahma joined by piety,
His spirit tastes eternal peace. The joys Springing from sense-life are but quickening wombs Which breed sure griefs: those joys begin and end!
The wise mind takes no pleasure, Kunti’s Son!
In such as those! But if a man shall learn, Even while he lives and bears his body’s chain, To master lust and anger, he is blest!
He is the Yukta; he hath happiness,
Contentment, light, within: his life is merged In Brahma’s life; he doth Nirvana touch!
Thus go the Rishis unto rest, who dwell
With sins effaced, with doubts at end, with hearts Governed and calm. Glad in all good they live, Nigh to the peace of God; and all those live Who pass their days exempt from greed and wrath, Subduing self and senses, knowing the Soul!
The Saint who shuts outside his placid soul All touch of sense, letting no contact through; Whose quiet eyes gaze straight from fixed brows, Whose outward breath and inward breath are drawn Equal and slow through nostrils still and close; That one-with organs, heart, and mind constrained, Bent on deliverance, having put away
Passion, and fear, and rage;—hath, even now, Obtained deliverance, ever and ever freed.
Yea! for he knows Me Who am He that heeds The sacrifice and worship, God revealed; And He who heeds not, being Lord of Worlds, Lover of all that lives, God unrevealed, Wherein who will shall find surety and shield!
HERE ENDS CHAPTER V. OF THE BHAGAVAD-GITA, Entitled “Karmasanyasayog,”
Or “The Book of Religion by Renouncing Fruit of Works.”
Krishna.
Therefore, who doeth work rightful to do, Not seeking gain from work, that man, O Prince!
Is Sanyasi and Yogi—both in one
And he is neither who lights not the flame Of sacrifice, nor setteth hand to task.
Regard as true Renouncer him that makes
Worship by work, for who renounceth not
Works not as Yogin. So is that well said: “By works the votary doth rise to faith, And saintship is the ceasing from all works; Because the perfect Yogin acts—but acts Unmoved by passions and unbound by deeds, Setting result aside.
Let each man raise
The Self by Soul, not trample down his Self, Since Soul that is Self’s friend may grow Self’s foe.
Soul is Self’s friend when Self doth rule o’er Self, But Self turns enemy if Soul’s own self
Hates Self as not itself.[FN#10]
The sovereign soul
Of him who lives self-governed and at peace Is centred in itself, taking alike
Pleasure and pain; heat, cold; glory and shame.
He is the Yogi, he is Yukta, glad
With joy of light and truth; dwelling apart Upon a peak, with senses subjugate
Whereto the clod, the rock, the glistering gold Show all as one. By this sign is he known Being of equal grace to comrades, friends, Chance-comers, strangers, lovers, enemies, Aliens and kinsmen; loving all alike,
Evil or good.
Sequestered should he sit,
Steadfastly meditating, solitary,
His thoughts controlled, his passions laid away, Quit of belongings. In a fair, still spot Having his fixed abode,—not too much raised, Nor yet too low,—let him abide, his goods A cloth, a deerskin, and the Kusa-grass.
There, setting hard his mind upon The One, Restraining heart and senses, silent, calm, Let him accomplish Yoga, and achieve
Pureness of soul, holding immovable
Body and neck and head, his gaze absorbed Upon his nose-end,[FN#11] rapt from all around, Tranquil in spirit, free of fear, intent Upon his Brahmacharya vow, devout,
Musing on Me, lost in the thought of Me.
That Yojin, so devoted, so controlled,
Comes to the peace beyond,—My peace, the peace Of high Nirvana!
But for earthly needs
Religion is not his who too much fasts
Or too much feasts, nor his who sleeps away An idle mind; nor his who wears to waste His strength in vigils. Nay, Arjuna! call That the true piety which most removes
Earth-aches and ills, where one is moderate In eating and in resting, and in sport;
Measured in wish and act; sleeping betimes, Waking betimes for duty.
When the man,
So living, centres on his soul the thought Straitly restrained—untouched internally By stress of sense—then is he Yukta. See!
Steadfast a lamp burns sheltered from the wind; Such is the likeness of the Yogi’s mind
Shut from sense-storms and burning bright to Heaven.
When mind broods placid, soothed with holy wont; When Self contemplates self, and in itself Hath comfort; when it knows the nameless joy Beyond all scope of sense, revealed to soul—
Only to soul! and, knowing, wavers not,
True to the farther Truth; when, holding this, It deems no other treasure comparable,
But, harboured there, cannot be stirred or shook By any gravest grief, call that state “peace,”
That happy severance Yoga; call that man The perfect Yogin!
Steadfastly the will
Must toil thereto, till efforts end in ease, And thought has passed from thinking. Shaking off All longings bred by dreams of fame and gain, Shutting the doorways of the senses close With watchful ward; so, step by step, it comes To gift of peace assured and heart assuaged, When the mind dwells self-wrapped, and the soul broods Cumberless. But, as often as the heart
Breaks—wild and wavering—from control, so oft Let him re-curb it, let him rein it back To the soul’s governance; for perfect bliss Grows only in the bosom tranquillised,
The spirit passionless, purged from offence, Vowed to the Infinite. He who thus vows
His soul to the Supreme Soul, quitting sin, Passes unhindered to the endless bliss
Of unity with Brahma. He so vowed,
So blended, sees the Life-Soul resident
In all things living, and all living things In that Life-Soul contained. And whoso thus Discerneth Me in all, and all in Me,
I never let him go; nor looseneth he
Hold upon Me; but, dwell he where he may, Whate’er his life, in Me he dwells and lives, Because he knows and worships Me, Who dwell In all which lives, and cleaves to Me in all.
Arjuna! if a man sees everywhere—
Taught by his own similitude—one Life,
One Essence in the Evil and the Good,
Hold him a Yogi, yea! well-perfected!
Arjuna.
Slayer of Madhu! yet again, this Yog,
This Peace, derived from equanimity,
Made known by thee—I see no fixity
Therein, no rest, because the heart of men Is unfixed, Krishna! rash, tumultuous,
Wilful and strong. It were all one, I think, To hold the wayward wind, as tame man’s heart.
Krishna.
Hero long-armed! beyond denial, hard
Man’s heart is to restrain, and wavering; Yet may it grow restrained by habit, Prince!
By wont of self-command. This Yog, I say, Cometh not lightly to th’ ungoverned ones; But he who will be master of himself
Shall win it, if he stoutly strive thereto.
Arjuna.
And what road goeth he who, having faith, Fails, Krishna! in the striving; falling back From holiness, missing the perfect rule?
Is he not lost, straying from Brahma’s light, Like the vain cloud, which floats ‘twixt earth and heaven When lightning splits it, and it vanisheth?
Fain would I hear thee answer me herein, Since, Krishna! none save thou can clear the doubt.
Krishna.
He is not lost, thou Son of Pritha! No!
Nor earth, nor heaven is forfeit, even for him, Because no heart that holds one right desire Treadeth the road of loss! He who should fail, Desiring righteousness, cometh at death
Unto the Region of the Just; dwells there Measureless years, and being born anew,
Beginneth life again in some fair home
Amid the mild and happy. It may chance
He doth descend into a Yogin house
On Virtue’s breast; but that is rare! Such birth Is hard to be obtained on this earth, Chief!
So hath he back again what heights of heart He did achieve, and so he strives anew
To perfectness, with better hope, dear Prince!
For by the old desire he is drawn on
Unwittingly; and only to desire
The purity of Yog is to pass
Beyond the Sabdabrahm, the spoken Ved.
But, being Yogi, striving strong and long, Purged from transgressions, perfected by births Following on births, he plants his
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