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    The Bhagavad Gita
    The Bhagavad Gita
    The Bhagavad Gita
    Ebook105 pages2 hours

    The Bhagavad Gita

    By Leonardo Paolo Lovari and Edwin Arnold

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    The Bhagavad Gita, the greatest devotional book of Hinduism, has long been recognized as one of the world’s spiritual classics and a guide to all on the path of Truth. It is sometimes known as the Song of the Lord or the Gospel of the Lord Shri Krishna. According to Western scholarship, it was composed later than the Vedas and the Upanishads – probably between the fifth and second centuries before Christ. It is a fragment, part of the sixth book of the epic poem The Mahabaratha. The Mahabaratha tells of the Pandavas, Prince Arjuna and his four brothers, growing up in north India at the court of their uncle, the blind King Dhritarashtra, after the death of their father, the previous ruler. There is always great rivalry between the Pandavas or sons of Pandu and the Kauravas, the one hundred sons of Dhritarashtra. Eventually the old king gives his nephews some land of their own but his eldest son, Duryodhana, defeats Yudhisthira, the eldest Pandava, by cheating at dice, and forces him and his brothers to surrender their land and go into exile for thirteen years. On their return, the old king is unable to persuade his son Duryodhana to restore their heritage and, in spite of efforts at reconciliation by Sanjaya, Dhritarashtra’s charioteer; by Bheeshma, his wise counsellor; and even by the Lord Krishna himself, war cannot be averted. The rival hosts face each other on the field of Kurukshetra. It is at this point that The Bhagavad Gita begins. When Prince Arjuna surveys the battlefield, he is overwhelmed with sorrow at the futility of war. The teachings of The Bhagavad Gita are spoken by the divine Lord Krishna, who is acting as the prince’s charioteer. They are overheard by Sanjaya and reported back to King Dhritarashtra. When Krishna has finished speaking to Arjuna, the two armies engage. The battle lasts eighteen days and by the end of it nearly all of the warriors on both sides are dead save Krishna and the five sons of Pandu.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarmakis Edizioni
    Release dateNov 16, 2017
    ISBN9788885519343
    The Bhagavad Gita

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      Book preview

      The Bhagavad Gita - Leonardo Paolo Lovari

      THE BHAGAVAD GITA

      Translated by Edwin Arnold

      [1885]

      CHAPTER I

      Of the Distress of Arjuna

      Dhritirashtra. Ranged thus for battle on the sacred plainOn Kurukshetra- say, Sanjaya! say

      What wrought my people, and the Pandavas?

      Sanjaya. When he beheld the host of Pandavas,

      Raja Duryodhana to Drona drew,

      And spake these words: "Ah, Guru! see this line,

      How vast it is of Pandu fighting-men,

      Embattled by the son of Drupada,

      Thy scholar in the war! Therein stand ranked

      Chiefs like Arjuna, like to Bhima chiefs,

      Benders of bows; Virata, Yuyudhan,

      Drupada, eminent upon his car, Dhrishtaket, Chekitan, Kasi’s stout lord,

      Purujit, Kuntibhoj, and Saivya,

      With Yudhamanyu, and Uttamauj

      Subhadra’s child; and Drupadi’s; all famed!

      All mounted on their shining chariots!

      On our side, too, thou best of Brahmans! see

      Excellent chiefs, commanders of my line,

      Whose names I joy to count: thyself the first,

      Then Bhishma, Karna, Kripa fierce in fight,

      Vikarna, Aswatthaman; next to these

      Strong Saumadatti, with full many more

      Valiant and tried, ready this day to die

      For me their king, each with his weapon grasped,

      Each skilful in the field. Weakest- meseems-

      Our battle shows where Bhishma holds command,

      And Bhima, fronting him, something too strong!

      Have care our captains nigh to Bhishma’s ranks

      Prepare what help they may! Now, blow my shell!"

      Then, at the signal of the aged king,

      With blare to wake the blood, rolling around

      Like to a lion’s roar, the trumpeter

      Blew the great Conch; and, at the noise of it,

      Trumpets and drums, cymbals and gongs and horns

      Burst into sudden clamour; as the blasts

      Of loosened tempest, such the tumult seemed!

      Then might be seen, upon their car of gold

      Yoked with white steeds, blowing their battle-shells,

      Krishna the God, Arjuna at his side:

      Krishna, with knotted locks, blew his great conch

      Carved of the Giant’s bone; Arjuna blew

      Indra’s loud gift; Bhima the terrible-

      Wolf-bellied Bhima- blew a long reed-conch;

      And Yudhisthira, Kunti’s blameless son,

      Winded a mighty shell, Victory’s Voice;

      And Nakula blew shrill upon his conch

      Named the Sweet-sounding, Sahadev on his

      Called Gem-bedecked, and Kasi’s Prince on his.

      Sikhandi on his car, Dhrishtadyumn,

      Virata, Satyaki the Unsubdued,

      Drupada, with his sons, (O Lord of Earth!)

      Long-armed Subhadra’s children, all blew loud,

      So that the clangour shook their foemen’s hearts,

      With quaking earth and thundering heav’n.

      Then ‘twas-

      Beholding Dhritirashtra’s battle set,

      Weapons unsheathing, bows drawn forth, the war

      Instant to break- Arjun, whose ensign-badge

      Was Hanuman the monkey, spake this thing

      To Krishna the Divine, his charioteer:

      "Drive, Dauntless One! to yonder open ground

      Betwixt the armies; I would see more nigh

      These who will fight with us, those we must slay

      To-day, in war’s arbitrament; for, sure,

      On bloodshed all are bent who throng this plain,

      Obeying Dhritirashtra’s sinful son."

      Thus, by Arjuna prayed, (O Bharata!)

      Between the hosts that heavenly Charioteer

      Drove the bright car, reining its milk-white steeds

      Where Bhishma led, and Drona, and their Lords.

      See! spake he to Arjuna, "where they stand,

      Thy kindred of the Kurus:" and the Prince

      Marked on each hand the kinsmen of his house,

      Grandsires and sires, uncles and brothers and sons,

      Cousins and sons-in-law and nephews, mixed

      With friends and honoured elders; some this side,

      Some that side ranged: and, seeing those opposed,

      Such kith grown enemies- Arjuna’s heart

      Melted with pity, while he uttered this:

      Arjuna. Krishna! as I behold, come here to shed

      Their common blood, yon concourse of our kin,

      My members fail, my tongue dries in my mouth,

      A shudder thrills my body, and my hair

      Bristles with horror; from my weak hand slips

      Gandiv, the goodly bow; a fever burns

      My skin to parching; hardly may I stand;

      The life within me seems to swim and faint;

      Nothing do I foresee save woe and wail!

      It is not good, O Keshav! nought of good

      Can spring from mutual slaughter! Lo, I hate

      Triumph and domination, wealth and ease,

      Thus sadly won! Aho! what victory

      Can bring delight, Govinda! what rich spoils

      Could profit; what rule recompense; what span

      Of life itself seem sweet, bought with such blood?

      Seeing that these stand here, ready to die,

      For whose sake life was fair, and pleasure pleased,

      And power grew precious: grandsires, sires, and sons,

      Brothers, and fathers-in-law, and sons-in-law,

      Elders and friends! Shall I deal death on these

      Even though they seek to slay us? Not one blow,

      O Madhusudan! will I strike to gain

      The rule of all Three Worlds; then, how much less

      To seize an earthly kingdom! Killing these

      Must breed but anguish, Krishna! If they be

      Guilty, we shall grow guilty by their deaths;

      Their sins will light on us, if we shall slay

      Those sons of Dhritirashtra, and our kin;

      What peace could come of that, O Madhava?

      For if indeed, blinded by lust and wrath,

      These cannot see, or will not see, the sin

      Of kingly lines o’erthrown and kinsmen slain,

      How should not we, who see, shun such a crime-

      We who perceive the guilt and feel the shame-

      O thou Delight of Men, Janardana?

      By overthrow of houses perisheth

      Their sweet continuous household piety,

      And- rites neglected, piety extinct-

      Enters impiety upon that home;

      Its women grow unwomaned, whence there spring

      Mad passions, and the mingling-up of castes,

      Sending a Hell-ward road that family,

      And whoso wrought its doom by wicked wrath.

      Nay, and the souls of honoured ancestors

      Fall from their place of peace, being bereft

      Of funeral-cakes and the wan death-water.

      So teach our holy hymns. Thus, if we slay

      Kinsfolk and friends for love of earthly power,

      Ahovat! what an evil fault it were!

      Better I deem it, if my kinsmen strike,

      To face them weaponless, and

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