You are here: BP HOME > TLB > Aśvaghoṣa: Saundarananda > fulltext
Aśvaghoṣa: Saundarananda

Choose languages

Choose images, etc.

Choose languages
Choose display
  • Enable images
  • Enable footnotes
    • Show all footnotes
    • Minimize footnotes
DiacriticaDiacritica-helpSearch-help
ā ī ū ṛ ṝ ḷ
ḹ ’ ṃ ḥ ṅ ñ
ṭ ḍ ṇ ṣ ś ź
š č ǰ γ    
Note on the transliteration:
The transliteration system of the BP/TLB is based on the Unicode/UTF-8 system. However, there may be difficulties with some of the letters – particularly on PC/Windows-based systems, but not so much on the Mac. We have chosen the most accepted older and traditional systems of transliteration against, e.g, Wylie for Tibetan, since with Unicode it is possible, in Sanskrit and Tibetan, etc., to represent one sound with one letter in almost all the cases (excepting Sanskrit and Tibetan aspirated letters, and Tibetan tsa, tsha, dza). We thus do not use the Wylie system which widely employs two letters for one sound (ng, ny, sh, zh etc.).
 
Important:
We ask you in particular to note the use of the ’ apostrophe and not the ' representing the avagrāha in Sanskrit, and most important the ’a-chuṅ in Tibetan. On the Mac the ’ is Alt-M.
 
If you cannot find the letters on your key-board, you may click on the link "Diacritica" to access it for your search.
Choose specific texts..
Aśvaghoṣa: Saundarananda
    Click to Expand/Collapse Option Complete text
Click to Expand/Collapse OptionCANTO I: Kapilavāstuvarṇana
Click to Expand/Collapse OptionCANTO II: Rājavarṇana
Click to Expand/Collapse OptionCANTO III: Tathāgatavarṇana
Click to Expand/Collapse OptionCANTO IV: Bhāryāyācitaka
Click to Expand/Collapse OptionCANTO V: Nandapravrājana
Click to Expand/Collapse OptionCANTO VI: Bhāryāvilāpa
Click to Expand/Collapse OptionCANTO VII: Nandivilāpa
Click to Expand/Collapse OptionCANTO VIII: Strīvighāta
Click to Expand/Collapse OptionCANTO IX: Madāpavāda
Click to Expand/Collapse OptionCANTO X: Svarganidarśana
Click to Expand/Collapse OptionCANTO XI: Svargāpavāda
Click to Expand/Collapse OptionCANTO XII: Paryavamarśa
Click to Expand/Collapse OptionCANTO XIII: Śīlendriyajaya
Click to Expand/Collapse OptionCANTO XIV: Ādiprasthāno
Click to Expand/Collapse OptionCANTO XV: Vitarkaprahāṇa
Click to Expand/Collapse OptionCANTO XVI: Āryasatyavyākhyāna
Click to Expand/Collapse OptionCANTO XVII: Amṛtādhigama
Click to Expand/Collapse OptionCANTO XVIII: Ājñāvyākaraṇa
Back to library
tato hṛte bhartari gauraveṇa prītau hṛtāyām aratau kṛtāyām |
tatraiva harmyopari vartamānā na sundarī saiva tadā babhāse || 
6.1 And so, with her husband riven away through his respect for the Guru, bereft of her happiness, left joyless,
Though she remained at the same spot, high up in the palace, Sundarī no longer seemed to be herself.  
sā bhartur abhyāgamanapratīkṣā gavākṣam ākramya payodharābhyām |
dvāronmukhī calayoktrakā lalambe mukhena tiryaṅnatakuṇḍalena || 
6.2 Anticipating her husband’s approach, she leant forward, her breasts invading the bulls-eye window.
Expectantly she looked out from the palace roof towards the gateway, her earrings dangling down across her face.  
vilambhaārā calayoktrakā sā tasmād vimānād vinatā cakāśe |
tapaḥksayād apsarasāṃ vareva cyutaṃ vimānāt priyam īkṣamāṇā || 
6.3 With her pearl necklaces hanging down, and straps dishevelled, as she bent down from the palace,
She looked like the most gorgeous of the heavenly nymphs (the apsarases) gazing from her celestial abode at her lover, as he falls down, having used up his ascetic credit. 
sā khedasaṃsvinnalalāṭakena niśvāsanīṣpītaviśeṣakeṇa |
cintācalākṣeṇa mukhena tasthau bartāram anyatra viśaṅkamānā || 
6.4 With a cold sweat on her beautiful brow, her face-paint drying in her sighs,
And her eyes restless with anxious thoughts, there she stood, suspecting her husband, somewhere else.  
tataś cirasthānaparśrameña sthitaiva paryaṅkatale papāta |
tiryak ca śiśye pravikīrṇahārā sapādukaikārthavilambapādā || 
6.5 Tired out by a long time standing in that state, she dropped, just where she stood, onto a couch,
And lay across it with her necklaces scattered and a slipper half hanging off her foot.  
athātra kā cit pramadā sabāṣpāṃ tāṃ duḥkhitāṃ draṣṭum anīpsamānā |
prāsādasopānatalapraṇādaṃ cakāra padbhyāṃ sahasā rudantī || 
6.6 One of her women, not wishing to see Sundarī in such tearful distress,
Was making her way down from the palace penthouse, when she burst into tears, and made a commotion with her feet on the stairs.  
tasyāś ca sopānatalapraṇādaṃ śrutaiva tūrṇaṃ punar utpapāta |
prītyā prasaktaiva ca saṃjaharṣa priyopayānaṃ pariśaṅkamānā || 
6.7 Hearing the sound on the stairs of that woman’s feet [Sundarī] quickly jumped up again;
Transfixed with joy, she bristled with excitement, believing it to be the approach of her beloved.  
sā trāsayantī valabhīpuṭasthān pārāvatān nūpuranisvanena |
sopānakukṣiṅ prasasāra harṣād bhraṣṭaṃ dukūlāntam acintayantī || 
6.8 Scaring the pigeons in their rooftop roosts with the jangling of her ankle bracelets,
She dashed to the stairwell, without worrying, in her excitement, about what extremity of her diaphonous raiments might be falling off.  
tām aṅganāṃ prekṣya ca vipralabdhā niśvasya bhūyaḥ śayanaṃ prapede |
vivarṇavaktrā na rarāja cāśu vivarṇacandreva himāgame dyauḥ || 
6.9 On seeing the woman she was crestfallen; she sighed, threw herself again onto the couch,
And no longer shone: with her face suddenly 01 pallid she was as grey as a pale-mooned sky in early winter. 
sā duḥkhitā bhartur adarśanena kāmena kopena ca dahyamānā |
kṛtvā kare vaktram upopaviṣṭā cintānadīṃ śokajalāṃ tatāra || 
6.10 Distressed at not seeing her husband, burning with desire and fury,
She sat down with face in hand and steeped herself in the river of worries, whose water is sorrow. 
tasyā mukhaṃ padmasapatnabhūtaṃ pāṇau sthitaṅ pallavarāgatāmre |
chāyāmayasyāmbhasi paṅkajasya babhau nataṃ padmam ivopariṣṭāt || 
6.11 Her lotus-rivalling face, resting on the hennaed stem of her hand,
Was like a lotus above the reflection in the water of its mud-born self, drooping down.  
sā strīsvabhāvena vicintya tat tad dṛṣṭānurāge ’bhimukhe ’pi patyau |
dharmāśrite tattvam avindamānā saṃkalpya tat tad vilalāpa tat tat || 
6.12 She considered various possibilities, in accordance with a woman’s nature; then, failing to see the truth that her husband had taken refuge in the dharma, while obviously still impassioned and in love with her, she constructed various scenarios and uttered various laments:  
eṣyāmy anāśyānaviśeṣakāyāṃ tvayīti kṛtvā mayi tāṃ pratijñām |
kasmān nu hetor dayitapratijñaḥ so ’dya priya me vitathapratijñaḥ || 
6.13 “He promised me: ‘I’ll be back before your make-up is dry’;
From what cause would such a cherisher of promises as my beloved is, be now a breaker of promises? 
āryasya sādhoḥ karuṇātmakasya mannityabhīror atidakṣiṇasya |
kuto vikāro ’yam abhūtapūrvaḥ svenāparāgeṇa mamāpacārāt || 
6.14 In him who was noble, good, compassionate, always in awe of me, and all too honest,
How has such an unprecedented transformation come about? Through a loss of passion on his part? From a mistake of mine? 
ratipriyasya priyavartino me priyasya nūnaṃ hṛdayaṃ viraktam |
tathāpi rāgo yadi tasya hi syān maccittarakṣī na sa nāgataḥ syāt || 
6.15 The heart of my lover – lover of sexual pleasure and of me – has obviously waned in its passion,
For if he did still love me, having regard for my heart, he would not have failed to return.  
rūpeṇa bhāvena ca madviśiṣtā priyeṇa dṛṣṭā niyataṃ tato ’nyā |
tathā hi kṛtvā mayi moghasāntvaṃ lagnāṃ satīṃ mām agamad vihāya || 
6.16 Another woman, then, in beauty and in nature better than me, my beloved has surely beheld;
For, having soothed me as he did with empty words, the guy has gone and left me, attached to him as I am. 
bhaktiṃ sa buddhaṃ prati yām avocat tasya prayātuṃ mayi sopadeśaḥ |
munau prasādo yadi tasya hi syān mṛtyor ivogrād anṛtād bibhīyāt || 
6.17 As for that devotion to Buddha of which he spoke, it was just a line to me for leaving;
For if he were clearly settled on the Sage he would fear untruth no less than a grisly death. 
lekārtham ādarśanam anyacitto vibhūṣayantya mama dhārayitvā |
bibharti so ’nyasya janasya taṅ cen namo ’stu tasmai calasauhṛdāya || 
6.18 While I put my make-up on, he held the mirror as a service to me, and thought of another!
If he holds it now for that other so much for his fickle affection!  
necchanti yāḥ śokam avāptum evaṃ śraddhātum arhanti na tā narāṇām |
kva cānuvṛttir mayi sāsya pūrvaṃ tyāgaḥ kva cāyaṃ janavat kṣaṇena || 
6.19 Any woman who does not wish to suffer grief like this should never trust a man.
How could he treat me before with such regard and then in a twinkling leave me like this, like anybody?”  
ity evamādi priyaviprakutā priye ’nyad āśaṅkya ca sā jagāda |
saṃbhrāntam āruhya ca tad vimānaṃ tāṃ strī sabāṣpā giram ity uvāca || 
6.20 This she said and more, love-lorn, and suspecting her love of loving another.
Then the giddy weeping woman, having dizzily climbed the palace stairs, tearfully told her these words: 
yuvāpi tāvat priyadarśano ’pi saubhāgyabhāgvyābhijanānvito ’pi |
yas tvāṃ priyo nābhyacarat kadā cit tam anyathā yāsyatikātarāsi || 
6.21 “Though he may be young, good-looking, full of noble ancestry, and filled with charm and fortune,
Never did your husband cheat on you. You are being silly, and judging him amiss. 
mā svāminaṃ svāmini doṣato gāḥ priyaṃ priyārhaṃ priyakāriṇaṃ tam |
na sa tvad anyāṃ pramadām avaiti svacakravākyā iva cakravākaḥ || 
6.22 Ma’am! Do not accuse your loving husband, a doer of loving deeds who merits your love;
He never even looks at any woman other than you, like greylag gander with kindred greylag goose. 
sa tu tvadarthaṃ gṛhavāsam īpsan jijīviṣus tvatparitoṣahetoḥ |
bhrātrā kilāryeṇa tathāgatena pravrājito netrajalārdravaktraḥ || 
6.23 For you, he wished to stay at home; for your delight, he wished to live;
But his noble brother, the Tathāgata, so they say, has banished him, his face made wet by tears, into the wandering life. 
śrutvā tato bhartari tāṃ pravṛttiṃ savepathuḥ sā sahasotpapāta |
pragṛhya bāhū virurāva coccair hṛdīva digdhābhihatā kareṇuḥ || 
6.24 Then, on hearing what had happened to her husband, all of a sudden, up she leapt, shaking;
She clasped her arms and screamed out loud like a she-elephant shot in the heart by a poisoned arrow.  
sā rdoanāroṣitaraktadṛṣṭiḥ saṃtāpasaṃkṣobhitagātrayaṣṭiḥ |
papāta śīrṇākulahārayaṣṭiḥ phalātibhārād iva cūtayaṣṭiḥ || 
6.25 Her eyes puffed-up and reddened by tears, the slender trunk of her body trembling with anguish,
She broke and scattered strings of pearls, as down she fell, like a mango branch weighed down by too much fruit. 
sā padmarāgaṃ vasanaṃ vasānā padmānanā padmadalāyatākṣī |
padmā vipadmā patiteva lakṣmīḥ śuśoṣa padmasrag ivātapena || 
6.26 Wearing clothes suffused with lotus colours, with lotus face, and eyes as long as lotus petals,
She was like a Lotus-Hued Lakṣmī, who had fallen from her lotus [pedestal]. And she withered like a lotus-garland left in the sun. 
saṃcintya saṃcintya guṇāṃś ca bhartur dīrghaṃ niśaśavāsa tatāma caiva |
vibhūṣaśrīnihite prakoṣṭhe tāmre karāgre ca vinirdudhāva || 
6.27 She thought and thought about her husband’s good points, sighing long and hard and gasping
As out she flung the arms that bore her gleaming jewels and [hennaed] hands, with reddened fingertips. 
na bhuṣaṇārtho mama saṃpratīti sā dikṣu cikṣepa vibhūṣaṇāni |
nirbhuṣaṇā sā patitā cakāśe viśīrṇapuṣpastabakā lateva || 
6.28 “Now I don’t have any need for ornaments!” she cried, as she hurled her jewels in all directions.
Unadorned and drooping, she resembled a creeper shorn of blossoms.  
dhṛtaḥ priyeṇāyam abhūn mameti rukmatsaruṃ darpaṇam āliliṅge |
yatnāc ca vinyastatamālapattrau ruṣṭeva dhṛṣṭaṃ pramamārja gaṇḍau || 
6.29 She clasped the golden-handled mirror, and reflected, “My husband held this up for me.”
And the tamāla paint she had applied so carefully, she rubbed aggressively off her cheeks, as if the paint had angered her.  
sā cakravākvīka bhṛśaṃ cukūja śyenāgrapakṣakṣatacakravākā |
vispardhamāneva vimānasaṃstahiḥ pārāvataiḥ kūjanalokaṇṭhaiḥ || 
6.30 Like a greylag goose, when a hawk has wounding talons on the gander’s wing, she hooted mightily,
As if in competition with the cooing pigeons on the palace roof, whose throats were all atremble.  
vicitramṛdvāstaraṇe ’pi suptā vaiḍūryavajrapratimaṇḍite ’pi |
rukmāṅgapāde śayane mahārhe na śarma lebhe pariceṣṭamānā || 
6.31 She lay down to sleep in soft and gorgeous bedclothes, on a bed bedecked with cats-eye gems and diamonds,
But in her costly crib with golden legs, she tossed and turned, and no respite did she obtain. 
saṃdṛṣya bhartuś ca vibhūṣañāni vāsāṃsi vīṇāprabhṛtiṃś ca līlāḥ |
tamo viveśābhinanāda coccaiḥ paṅkāvatīrṇeva ca saṃsasāda || 
6.32 She eyed her husband’s ornaments; his clothes, guitar and other items of amusement;
Thus she entered deeply into darkness: she raised a shriek, and then, as if descending into a mire, sank down.  
sā sundarī śvāsacalodarī hi vajrāgnisaṃbhinnadarīguheva |
śokāgnināntardhṛdi dahyamānā vibhrāntacitteva tadā babhūva || 
6.33 Her belly trembled out of breathlessness, like a cave being rent inside by fiery thunderbolts.
As, in her innermost heart, she burned with the fire of grief, Sundarī seemed at that moment to be going out of her mind.  
ruroda mamlau virurāva jaglau babhrāma tasthau vilalāpa dadhyau |
cakāra roṣaṃ vicakāra mālyaṃ cakarta vaktraṃ vicakarṣa vastram || 
6.34 She howled, then wilted, screamed, then swooned; she reeled, stood rooted, wailed then brooded.
She vented anger and rended garlands; she scratched her face and slashed her clothes.  
tāṃ cārudantīṃ prasabhaṃ rudantīṃ saṃśrutya nāryaḥ paramābhitaptāḥ |
antargṛhād āruruhur vimānaṃ trāsena kiṃnarya ivādripṛṣṭham || 
6.35 Hearing the howling of the lovely-toothed one – for O, how lovely were her teeth! – the ladies-in-waiting suffered utmost torment;
They climbed from inside the palace up to the roof, like nervous kiṁnarīs ascending a mountain peak.  
bāṣpeṇa tāḥ klinnaviṣaṇṇavaktrā varṣeṇa padminya ivārdrapadmāḥ |
sthānānurūpeṇa yathābhimānaṃ nililyire tām anu dahyamānāḥ || 
6.36 Their despondent faces wet with tears, like lotus ponds with rain-soaked lotus buds,
They settled down along with her, according to rank and as they wished, and along with her they burned in grief. 
tābhir vṛtā harmyatale ’ṅganābhiś cintātanuḥ sā sutanur babhāse |
śatahradābhiḥ pariveṣṭiteva śaśāṅkalekhā śaradbhramadhye || 
6.37 On the palace roof, enfolded by her women, the slender Sundarī, gaunt with worry,
Seemed like a streak of crescent moon enshrouded among the autumn clouds by a hundred rays of lightning. 
yā tatra tāsāṃ vacasopapannā mānyā ca tasyā vayasādhikā ca |
sā pṛṣṭhatas tāṃ tu samāliliṅge pramṛhya cāśrūṇi vacāṃsy uvāca || 
6.38 There was one among them there, however, who was senior in years, and good with words, a well-respected woman:
Holding Sundarī from behind in a firm embrace and wiping tears away, she spoke as follows: 
rājarṣivadhvās tava nānurūpo dharmāśrite bhartari jātu śokaḥ |
ikṣvākuvaṃśe hy abhikāṅkṣitāni dāyādyabhūtāni tapovanāni || 
6.39 “Grief does ill become you, the wife of a royal seer, when your husband has taken refuge in dharma;
For in the lineage of Ikṣvāku, an ascetic forest is a desired inheritance 
prāyeṇa mokṣāya viniḥsṛtānāṃ śākyarṣabhāṇāṃ viditāḥ striyas te |
tapovanānīva gṛhāṇi yāsāṃ sādhvīvrataṃ kāmavadāsritānām || 
6.40 Well you know of wives of Śākya bulls gone forth in search of freedom:
As a rule, they turn their houses almost into ascetic groves and they observe the vow of chastity, as if it were a pleasure. 
yady anyayā rūpaguṇādhikatvād bhartā hṛtas te kuru bāṣpamokṣam |
manasvinī rūpavatī guṇādhyā hṛdi kṣate kātra hi nāśru muñcet || 
6.41 If your husband had been stolen by another, due to her superior looks and qualities, then tears you should let flow;
For how could any beautiful and virtuous wife, who abounds in excellence, refrain from shedding teardrops when her heart was broken? 
athāpi kiṃ cid vyasanaṃ prapanno mā caiva tad bhūt sadṛśo ’tra bāṣpaḥ |
ato viśiṣṭaṃ na hi duḥkham asti kulodgatāyāḥ patidevatāyāḥ || 
6.42 Or had he met with some disaster – and may no such thing ever be! – then yes, tears;
Because there is no greater sorrow for a woman of noble birth who dignifies her husband as if he were a god. 
atha tv idānīṃ laḍitaḥ sukhena svasthaḥ phalastho vyasnāny adṛṣtvā |
vītaspṛho dharmam anuprapannaḥ kiṃ viklave rodiṣi harṣakāle || 
6.43 But on the contrary, he now is roving happily, meeting no disasters, but enjoying a healthy and fruitful life.
Free from eager longing, he is following dharma: at a time for celebration, why are you in such a state of weeping consternation?” 
ity evam uktāpi bahuprakāraṃ snehāt tayā naiva dhṛtiṃ cakāra |
athāparā tāṃ manaso ’nukūlaṃ kālopapannaṃ praṇayād uvāca || 
6.44 Though this woman, with her [unctious] kindness, thus put forward many sorts of argument, [Sundarī] could not be satisfied at all.
Then another woman, with a sense of intimacy, said what helped her mind and fit the occasion. 
bravīmi satyaṃ suviniścitaṃ me prāptaṃ priyaṃ drakṣyasi śīghram eva |
tvayā vinā sthāsyati tatra nāsau sattvāṣrayaś cetanayeva hīnaḥ || 
6.45 “Truly and categorically, I am telling you that soon enough you’ll see your husband back again.
Dispossessed of you, the fellow will survive out there no longer than living things survive when dispossessed of consciousness. 
aṅke ’pi lakṣmyā na sa nirvṛtaḥ syāt tvaṃ tasya pārśve yadi tatra na syāḥ |
āpatsu kṛcchrāsv api cāgatāsu tvāṃ paśyatas tasya bhaven na duḥkham || 
6.46 Even in the lap of luxury he could not be happy, lacking you there by his side;
And even in the direst pickle, not a thing could trouble him, as long as you were in his sight. 
tvaṃ nirvṛtiṃ gaccha niyaccha bāṣpaṃ taptāśrumokṣāt parirakṣa cakṣuḥ |
yas tasya bhāvas tvayi yaś ca rāgo na raṃsyate tvadvirahāt sa dharme || 
6.47 Be happy. Don’t keep crying. Spare your eyes from shedding molten tears.
The way he feels for you, and his passion, are such that he, bereft of you, will find no pleasure in the dharma. 
syād atra nāsau kulasattvagoyāt kāṣāyam ādāya vihāsyatīti |
anātmanādāya gṛhonmukhasya punar vimoktuṃ ka ivāsti doṣaḥ || 
6.48 Some might say that having worn the ochre robe, he won’t relinquish it, by dint of noble birth combined with strength of character.
But, he put it on unwillingly, while looking forward to going home: what fault is there in taking it back off?” 
ity yuvatijanena sāntvyamānā hṛtahṛdayā ramaṇena sundarī sā |
dramiḍam abhimukhī pureva rambhā kṣitim agamat parivāritāpsarobhiḥ || 
6.49 Thus consoled by her little women when her husband had purloined her heart,
Sundarī came to earth, just as Rambhā, 08 with her heart turned towards Dramiḍa, came once upon a time, enfolded in the midst of sister apsarases.  
saundaranande mahākāvye bhāryāvilāpo nāma ṣaṣṭaḥ sargah || || 
The 6th canto in the epic poem Handsome Nanda, titled “A Wife’s Lament.” 
Permanent link
Go to Wiki Documentation
Enhet: Det humanistiske fakultet   Utviklet av: IT-seksjonen ved HF
Login