A Sanskrit Prayer (in Translation)

    Saturday, May 19, 2012, 5:48 AM [General]

    Sanskrit Prayer (Original):

    Sarve bhavantu sukhinah, sarve santu niraamayah

    Sarve bhadraani pashyantu, Maa kashchid dukha-bhaag-bhavet


    May all in the world be happy,

    May all from sickness be free;

    May all behold the Auspicious,

    May none suffer any misery.


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    A Sufi Poem by Hazrat Inayat Khan (1882-1927)

    Saturday, October 31, 2009, 12:58 PM [General]

    Let Thy wish become my desire,

    let Thy will become my deed,

    let Thy word become my speech, Beloved,

    and Thy love become my creed.


    Let my plant bring forth Thy flowers,

    let my fruits produce Thy seed,

    let my heart become Thy lute, Beloved,

    and my body Thy flute of reed.


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    A Prayer to Devi (Sankaracharya's Poem in Translation)

    Saturday, September 26, 2009, 10:12 AM [General]

    (Stanzas from Sankaracharya's Devi-Apraadh Kshamaa-stotram)

    Original: Sanskrit~

    Na mokshasyaakamkshaa bhava-vibhavivaanchchhaa pi cha na men

    Na vigyaanaapekshaa shashi-mukhi sukhecchchaapi na punah

    Atastvaam samyaanche janani jananam yaatu mam vai

    Mridaani Rudraani Shiva-shiva-bhavaaneeti japatah


    Aapatsu magnah smaranam tvadeeyam

    Karomi Durge karunaarnaveshi

    Naitatchhatatvam mam bhaav yethaah

    Kshudhaa-trishartaa jananeem smaranti.


    O Mother, I seek no salvation,

    Nor wealth, nor knowledge, nor worldly comfort;

    O Moon-faced One, I only beg Thee

    That I may my life spend chanting Thy Names:

    Mridaani, Rudraani, Shivaa, Bhavaani,

    Again and again, devotedly.


    O Durga, O Sea of Mercy,

    In peril I am, I cry out to Thee,

    My cry is real, I'm no pretender;

    Like a child in thirst and hunger,

    I remember Thee, O Mother,

    For Thy help I pray to Thee.




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    Radha's Dance at Vrindavan (Hindi-Awadhi Poem)

    Wednesday, March 11, 2009, 5:28 AM [General]

    Radha's Dance at Vrindavan (Hindi-Awadhi Poem)


    Raadhaaji naachat brindaaban.

    Pag thirkat hain baajat ghunghroo,

    chhanan chhanan chhan chhanan chhanan.

    Taakat khag-mrig gop-gopikaa

    chhaadi sakal jag ke bandhan.

    Bhooli adhar dhar murali vilokat

    vismit chakit bhramit nand-nandan.

    Brindaaban kee kunj galin maa

    jhar jhar jharat amee-ras-ghan.


    Sri Radha is dancing in Vrindavan.

    Her feet are moving and anklebells jingling -

    chhanan chhanan chhan chhanan chhanan.

    All birds and animals and gopas and gopis

    are viewing the dance casting aside

    all bonds of the world.

    Even the son of Nanda is so amazed and bewildered

    that the flute on his lips he has forgotten to blow.

    In the gardens and streets of Vrindavan indeed,

    the cloud of nectar is pouring thick and fast !!


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    Radha's Holi (Hindi-Awadhi Poem)

    Wednesday, March 11, 2009, 4:02 AM [General]

    Radha's Holi (Hindi-Awadhi Poem)~


    Raadhaaji syaam sang khelat Hori.

    Ang-ang rangee-rangee, prem-ras pagee-pagee, karat thithori.

    Dhaavat le pichchakari, kaanhaa pe rang daari, hansat kishori.

    Raadhaa se vinati karat, hain Maadhav kar jorat, 'bas kar O Ri.'

    Yaa chhavi lakh balihaari, hain sab vraj nar-naari, chhoraa-chhori.


    Radha is playing Holi with Shyam.

    Smeared all over with colours and filled

    with the nectar of love, she is in a prankish mood.

    Running with a syringe after Krishna and

    sprinkling on him coloured water, she laughs,

    while Madhav with folded hands

    is praying to her to be spared.


    Aha. this sight of Holi indeed has

    all the men and women and boys and girls

    of Vrajaland swooning !


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    This Age of Kali - A Poem of Guru Nanak -1 (Translation)

    Sunday, December 7, 2008, 8:57 AM [General]


    Original (in Gurmukhi):


    Kali kaate raaje kaasaai, dharamu pankhu kari udia

    kudu amaavas sachu chandramaa, deesay nahi kah chadiaa

    hau bhaali vikuni hoee, aadheray raahu na koi

    vichi hau mai kari dukh roi,

    kahu Naanak kini vidhi gati hoi?




    This age of Kali is like a dagger,

    The rulers of the times are butchers;

    Righteousness has taken to flight,

    The night of falsehood is holding sway;

    The moon of Truth is not to be seen,

    My search for it has been in vain;

    My soul within in sorrow weeps,

    In this dark I don't see my way.


    O Nanak, tell me from this plight

    How can I myself wean away?


    (Note: Guru Nanak, the founder of Sikhism, was a great religious leader and one of the most prominent devotional (Bhakti) poets of medieval India, and many of his poems are to be found in the Sikhs' Holy Book, Guru Granth-Sahib.


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    A Poem of Surdas -3 (Translation)

    Sunday, December 7, 2008, 8:28 AM [General]


    (Baarak jaiyo mili Madho)


    O Madhav, come to meet me at least once.

    Who knows when this body will cease to breathe,

    and the pain of not meeting you may remain in my heart forever like a thorn.


    Please come as a guest to the house of Nanda,

    and may I see you even for half a moment.


    Fate has decided against our union,

    and even your sight is not possible now.


    The bliss that's denied even to Lord Shiva or sage Sanak,

    that bliss was the gopis' when you were with them.


    Surdas says, Radha is now lamenting

    that the beauty of Hari is without an end.


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    A Poem of Surdas -4 (Translation)

    Sunday, December 7, 2008, 8:27 AM [General]


    (Madhuvan tum kyon rahat hare)


    O Madhuvan forest, why are you green still?

    Why haven't you burnt in the fire of Sri Krishna's separation?

    Why are you still standing?


    Shri Krishna played the flute beneath your boughs,

    Listening to which all living as well as non-living beings

    felt drawn and even the sages in meditation

    lost their concentration for a while.


    O forest, you've forgotten the sweet face of Krishna,

    for we see that you've again bloomed;

    Why in the fire of Lord's separation

    you have not been fully consumed ?


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    A Poem of Surdas -2- (Translation)

    Sunday, December 7, 2008, 8:26 AM [General]


    (Deenan dukh haran Dev, santan hitkaari)


    O Lord, You relieve the poor of their misery,

    You do good to the faithful.

    Ajamil, vulture and the hunter- who was not the fallen one?

    and the whore who made the parrot learn and speak-

    You have uplifted them all.

    You put the crown on Dhruva's head and took Prahlad in Your embrace.

    You laid a bridge on the sea and had the city of Lanka burnt

    for your devotee Vibhishan's sake.

    You took delight in the handful of rice (offered by Sudama)

    and the simple vegetarian fare (at Vidur's home).

    You didn't mind eating (from the hands of the Bhil woman Sabari)

    the forest fruits- whether sweet, sour or salty.

    When the elephant was in the clutch of the water-monster,

    or when Dushaasan tried to disrobe Draupadi

    and she cried out 'Krishna, Krishna' in the assembly,

    You proved true to Your name by coming quick to their rescue.


    Surdas, the blind beggar, is at Your doorstep, O Lord,

    hoping that You'll protect him, too.


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    The Self in Isavasya Upanisad

    Sunday, December 7, 2008, 8:22 AM [General]


    Original (Sanskrit):

    Tadejati tannaijati tad dure tadvantike,

    tadan-tarasya sarvasya tadu sarva-syasya bahyatah. (5)


    Yastu sarvani bhutani atmanye -vanupasyati,

    sarva-bhutesu catmanam tato na viju-gupsate. (6)


    Translation: (by Swami Chinmayananda)

    The Atman (Self) moves and It moves not;

    It is far and It is near;

    It is within all this, and It is also outside all this. (5)


    He who constantly sees everywhere all existence in the Self

    and the Self in all beings and forms,

    thereafter feels no hatred for anything. (6)



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