hṛte bhartari gauraveṇa prītau hṛtāyām-aratau kṛtāyām /
so, with her husband riven away through his respect for the Guru,
bereft of her happiness, left joyless,
harmyopari vartamānā na sundarī saiva tadā babhāse // 6.1 //
she remained at the same spot, high up in the palace, Sundarī no
longer seemed to be herself.
bhartur-abhyāgamana-pratīkṣā gavākṣam-ākramya payodharābhyām
her husband's approach, she leant forward, her breasts invading the
harmya-talāl-lalambe mukhena tiryaṅ-nata-kuṇḍalena // 6.2 //
she looked out from the palace roof towards the gateway, her earrings
dangling down across her face.
cala-yoktrakā sā tasmād vimānād vinatā cakāśe /
her pearl necklaces hanging down, and straps dishevelled, as she bent
down from the palace,
kṣayād-apsarasāṃ vareva cyutaṃ vimānāt priyam-īkṣamāṇā
// 6.3 //
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.
a cold sweat on her beautiful brow, her face-paint drying in her
mukhena tasthau bhartāram-anyatra viśaṅkamānā // 6.4 //
her eyes restless with anxious
thoughts, there she stood, suspecting her husband, somewhere else.
sthitaiva paryaṅka-tale papāta /
out by a long time standing in that state, she dropped, just where
she stood, onto a couch,
śiśye pravikīrṇa-hārā sapādukaikārdha-vilamba-pādā // 6.5
lay across it with her necklaces scattered and a slipper half hanging
off her foot.
kā-cit pramadā sabāṣpāṃ tāṃ duḥkhitāṃ
of her women, not wishing to see Sundarī in such tearful distress,
cakāra padbhyāṃ sahasā rudantī // 6.6 //
making her way down from the palace penthouse, when she burst into
tears, and made a commotion with her feet on the stairs.
sopāna-tala-praṇādaṃ śrutvaiva tūrṇaṃ punar-utpapāta /
the sound on the stairs of that woman's feet Sundarī quickly jumped
prasaktaiva ca saṃjaharṣa priyopayānaṃ pariśaṅkamānā //
with joy, she bristled with excitement, believing it to be the
approach of her beloved.
trāsayantī valabhī-puṭa-sthān pārāvatān nūpura-nisvanena /
the pigeons in their rooftop roosts with the jangling of her ankle
prasasāra harṣād bhraṣṭaṃ dukūlāntam-acintayantī // 6.8
dashed to the stairwell, without worrying,
in her excitement, about what extremity of her diaphonous raiments
might be falling off.
prekṣya ca vipralabdhā niśvasya bhūyaḥ śayanaṃ prapede /
seeing the woman she was crestfallen; she sighed, threw herself again
onto the couch,
na rarāja cāśu vivarṇa-candreva himāgame dyauḥ // 6.9 //
no longer shone: with her face
suddenly pallid she was as grey as a pale-mooned sky in early winter.
duḥkhitā bhartur-adarśanena kāmena kopena ca dahyamānā /
at not seeing her husband, burning with desire and fury,
kare vaktram-upopaviṣṭā cintā-nadīṃ śoka-jalāṃ tatāra
// 6.10 //
sat down with face in hand and steeped herself in the river of
worries, whose water is sorrow.
mukhaṃ padma-sapatna-bhūtaṃ pāṇau sthitaṃ
lotus-rivalling face, resting on the hennaed stem of her hand,
paṅkajasya babhau nataṃ padmam-ivopariṣṭāt // 6.11 //
like a lotus above the reflection in the water of its mud-born self,
strī-svabhāvena vicintya tat-tad dṛṣṭānurāge 'bhimukhe 'pi
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,
tattvam-avindamānā saṃkalpya tat-tad-vilalāpa tat-tat // 6.12 //
obviously still impassioned and in love with her, she constructed
various scenarios and uttered various laments:
tvayīti kṛtvā mayi taṃ pratijñām /
promised me: 'I'll be back before your make-up is dry';
hetor-dayita-pratijñaḥ so 'dya priyo me vitatha-pratijñaḥ //
what cause would such a cherisher of promises as my beloved is, be
now a breaker of promises?
sādhoḥ karuṇātmakasya man-nitya-bhīror-atidakṣiṇasya /
him who was noble, good, compassionate, always in awe of me, and all
vikāro 'yam-abhūta-pūrvaḥ svenāparāgeṇa mamāpacārāt //
has such an unprecedented transformation come about? Through a loss
of passion on his part? From a mistake of mine?
priya-vartino me priyasya nūnaṃ hṛdayaṁ viraktam /
heart of my lover -- lover of sexual pleasure and of me -- has
obviously waned in its passion,
rāgo yadi tasya hi syān mac-citta-rakṣī na sa nāgataḥ syāt
// 6.15 //
if he did still love me, having regard for my heart, he would not
have failed to return.
bhāvena ca mad-viśiṣṭā priyeṇa dṛṣṭā niyataṃ tato
woman, then, in beauty and in nature better than me, my beloved has
hi kṛtvā mayi mogha-sāntvaṃ lagnāṃ satīṃ mām-agamad
vihāya // 6.16 //
having soothed me as he did with empty words, the guy has gone and
left me, attached to him as I am.
sa buddhaṃ prati yām-avocat-tasya prayātuṃ mayi so 'padeśaḥ
for that devotion to Buddha of which he spoke, it was just a line to
me for leaving;
prasādo yadi tasya hi syān-mṛtyor-ivogrād-anṛtād bibhīyāt
// 6.17 //
if he were clearly settled on the Sage he would fear untruth no less
than a grisly death.
vibhūṣayantyā mama dhārayitvā /
I put my make-up on, he held the mirror as a service to me, and
thought of another!
so 'nyasya janasya taṃ cen-namo 'stu tasmai cala-sauhṛdāya //
he holds it now for that other so much for his fickle affection!
yāḥ śokam-avāptum-evaṃ śraddhātum-arhanti na tā narāṇām
woman who does not wish to suffer grief like this should never trust
cānuvṛttir-mayi sāsya pūrvaṃ tyāgaḥ kva cāyaṃ janavat
kṣaṇena // 6.19 //
could he treat me before with such regard and then in a twinkling
leave me like this, like anybody?"
priya-viprayuktā priye 'nyad-āśaṅkya ca sā jagāda /
she said and more, love-lorn, and suspecting her love of loving
ca tad-vimānaṃ tāṃ strī sabāṣpā giram-ity-uvāca // 6.20
the giddy weeping woman, having dizzily climbed the palace stairs,
tearfully told her these words:
tāvat priya-darśano 'pi saubhāgya-bhāgyābhijanānvito 'pi /
he may be young, good-looking, full
of noble ancestry, and filled with charm and fortune,
priyo nābhyacarat kadā-cit-tam-anyathā pāsyasi-kātarāsi //
did your husband cheat on you. You are being silly, and judging him
svāminaṃ svāmini doṣato gāḥ priyaṃ priyārhaṃ
priya-kāriṇaṃ tam /
Do not accuse your loving husband, a doer of loving deeds who merits
sa tvad-anyāṃ pramadām-avaiti svacakravākyā iva cakravākaḥ
// 6.22 //
never even looks at any woman other than you, like greylag gander
with kindred greylag goose.
tu tvad-arthaṃ gṛha-vāsam-īpsan jijīviṣus-tvat-paritoṣa-hetoḥ
you, he wished to stay at home; for your delight, he wished to live;
kil-āryeṇa tathāgatena pravrājito netra-jalārdra-vaktraḥ //
his noble brother, the Tathāgata, so they say, has banished him, his
face made wet by tears, into the wandering life.
tato bhartari tāṃ pravṛttiṃ sa-vepathuḥ sā sahasotpapāta /
on hearing what had happened to her husband, all of a sudden, up she
bāhū virurāva coccair-hṛdīva digdhābhihatā kareṇuḥ //
clasped her arms and screamed out loud like a she-elephant shot in
the heart by a poisoned arrow.
eyes puffed-up and reddened by tears, the slender trunk of her body
trembling with anguish,
śīrṇākula-hāra-yaṣṭiḥ phalātibhārād-iva cūta-yaṣṭiḥ
// 6.25 //
broke and scattered strings of pearls, as down she fell, like a mango
branch weighed down by too much fruit.
padma-rāgaṃ vasanaṃ vasānā padmānanā padma-dalāyatākṣī
clothes suffused with lotus colours, with lotus face, and eyes as
long as lotus petals,
vipadmā patiteva lakṣmīḥ śuśoṣa padma-srag-ivātapena //
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 guṇāṁś-ca bhartur-dīrghaṃ niśaśvāsa tatāma
thought and thought about her husband's good points, sighing long and
hard and gasping
prakoṣṭhe tāmre karāgre ca vinirdudhāva // 6.27 //
out she flung the arms that bore her gleaming jewels and hennaed
hands, with reddened fingertips.
bhūṣaṇārtho mama saṃpratīti sā dikṣu cikṣepa
I don't have any need for ornaments!" she cried, as she hurled
her jewels in all directions.
sā patitā cakāśe viśīrṇa-puṣpa-stabakā lateva // 6.28 //
and drooping, she resembled a creeper shorn of blossoms.
priyeṇāyam-abhūn-mameti rukma-tsaruṃ darpaṇam-āliliṅge /
clasped the golden-handled mirror, and reflected, "My husband
held this up for me."
vinyasta-tamāla-patrau ruṣṭeva dhṛṣṭaṃ pramamāja gaṇḍau
// 6.29 //
the tamāla paint she had applied so carefully, she rubbed
aggressively off her cheeks, as if the paint had angered her.
cakravākīva bhṛśaṃ cukūja śyenāgra-pakṣa-kṣata-cakravākā
a greylag goose, when a hawk has wounding talons on the gander's
wing, she hooted mightily,
vimāna-saṃsthaiḥ pārāvataiḥ kūjana-lola-kaṇṭhaiḥ //
if in competition with the cooing pigeons on the palace roof, whose
throats were all atremble.
'pi suptā vaiḍūrya-vajra-pratimaṇḍite 'pi /
lay down to sleep in soft and gorgeous bedclothes, on a bed bedecked
with cats-eye gems and diamonds,
śayane mahārhe na śarma lebhe pariceṣṭamānā // 6.31 //
in her costly crib with golden legs, she tossed and turned, and no
respite did she obtain.
bhartuś-ca vibhūṣaṇāni vāsāṃsi vīṇā-prabhṛtīṃś-ca
eyed her husband's ornaments; his clothes, guitar and other items of
viveśābhinanāda coccaiḥ paṅkāvatīrṇeva ca saṃsasāda //
she entered deeply into darkness: she raised a shriek, and then, as
if descending into a mire, sank down.
sundarī śvāsa-calodarī hi vajrāgni-saṃbhinna-darī-guheva /
belly trembled out of breathlessness, like a cave being rent inside
by fiery thunderbolts.
dahyamānā vibhrānta-citteva tadā babhūva // 6.33 //
in her innermost heart, she
burned with the fire of grief, Sundarī seemed at that moment to be
going out of her mind.
mamlau virurāva jaglau babhrāma tasthau vilalāpa dadhyau /
howled, then wilted, screamed, then swooned; she reeled, stood
rooted, wailed then brooded.
roṣaṃ vicakāra mālyaṃ cakarta vaktraṃ vicakarṣa vastram
// 6.34 //
vented anger and rended garlands; she scratched her face and slashed
cāru-dantīṃ prasabhaṃ rudantīṃ saṃśrutya nāryaḥ
the howling of the lovely-toothed one
– for O, how lovely
were her teeth! - the
ladies-in-waiting suffered utmost torment;
trāsena kiṁnarya ivādri-pṛṣṭham // 6.35 //
climbed from inside the palace up to the roof, like nervous kiṁnarīs
ascending a mountain peak.
tāḥ klinna-viṣaṇṇa-vaktrā varṣeṇa padminya
despondent faces wet with tears, like lotus ponds with rain-soaked
yathābhimānaṃ nililyire tām-anu-dahyamānāḥ // 6.36 //
settled down along with her, according to rank and as they wished,
and along with her they burned in grief.
harmya-tale 'ṅganābhiś-cintā-tanuḥ sā sutanur-babhāse /
the palace roof, enfolded by her women, the slender Sundarī, gaunt
pariveṣṭiteva śaśāṅka-lekhā śarad-abhra-madhye // 6.37 //
like a streak of crescent moon enshrouded among the autumn clouds by
a hundred rays of lightning.
tatra tāsāṃ vacasopapannā mānyā ca tasyā vayasādhikā ca /
was one among them there, however, who was senior in years, and good
with words, a well-respected woman:
pṛṣṭhatas-tāṃ tu samāliliṅge pramṛjya cāśrūṇi
vacāṃsy-uvāca // 6.38 //
Sundarī from behind in a firm embrace and wiping tears away, she
spoke as follows:
nānurūpo dharmāśrite bhartari jātu śokaḥ /
does ill become you, the wife of a royal seer, when your husband has
taken refuge in dharma;
hy-abhikāṅkṣitāni dāyādya-bhūtāni tapo-vanāni // 6.39 //
in the lineage of Ikṣvāku, an ascetic forest is a desired
mokṣāya viniḥsṛtānāṃ śākya-rṣabhāṇāṃ viditāḥ
you know of wives of Śākya bulls gone forth in search of freedom:
gṛhāṇi yāsāṃ sādhvī-vrataṃ kāmavad-āśritānām //
a rule, they turn their houses
almost into ascetic groves and
they observe the vow of chastity, as if it were a pleasure.
rūpa-guṇādhikatvād bhartā hṛtas-te kuru bāṣpa-mokṣam /
your husband had been stolen by another, due to her superior looks
and qualities, then tears you should let flow;
rūpavatī guṇāḍhyā hṛdi kṣate kātra hi nāśru muñcet //
how could any beautiful and virtuous wife, who abounds in excellence,
refrain from shedding teardrops when her heart was broken?
kiṃ-cid vyasanaṃ prapanno mā caiva tad bhūt sadṛśo 'tra
had he met with some disaster -- and
may no such thing ever be! -- then yes, tears;
viśiṣṭaṃ na hi duḥkham-asti kulodgatāyāḥ pati-devatāyāḥ
// 6.42 //
there is no greater sorrow for a woman of noble birth who dignifies
her husband as if he were a god.
tv-idānīṃ laḍitaḥ sukhena sva-sthaḥ phala-stho
on the contrary, he now is roving happily, meeting no disasters, but
enjoying a healthy and fruitful life.
dharmam-anuprapannaḥ kiṃ viklave rodiṣi harṣa-kāle // 6.43
from eager longing, he is following dharma: at a time for
celebration, why are you in such a state of weeping consternation?"
bahu-prakāraṃ snehāt-tayā naiva dhṛtiṃ cakāra /
this woman, with her unctious kindness,
forward many sorts of argument,
Sundarī could not be satisfied at
tāṃ manaso 'nukūlaṃ kālopapannaṃ praṇayād-uvāca // 6.44
another woman, with a sense of intimacy, said what helped her mind
and fit the occasion.
satyaṃ su-viniścitaṃ me prāptaṃ priyaṃ drakṣyasi
and categorically, I am telling you that soon enough you'll see your
husband back again.
vinā sthāsyati tatra nāsau sattvāśrayaś-cetanayeva hīnaḥ //
of you, the fellow will survive out there no longer than living
things survive when dispossessed of consciousness.
'pi lakṣmyā na sa nirvṛtaḥ syāt tvaṃ tasya pārśve yadi
tatra na syāḥ /
in the lap of luxury he could not be happy, lacking you there by his
kṛcchrāsv-api cāgatāsu tvāṃ paśyatas-tasya bhaven-na duḥkham
// 6.46 //
even in the direst pickle, not a thing could trouble him, as long as
you were in his sight.
nirvṛtiṃ gaccha niyaccha bāṣpaṃ taptāśru-mokṣāt
parirakṣa cakṣuḥ /
happy. Don't keep crying. Spare your eyes from shedding molten tears.
bhāvas-tvayi yaś-ca rāgo na raṃsyate tvad-virahāt sa dharme //
way he feels for you, and his
passion, are such that he, bereft of you, will find no pleasure in
nāsau kula-sattva-yogāt kāṣāyam-ādāya vihāsyatīti /
might say that having worn the ochre robe, he won't relinquish it, by
dint of noble birth combined with strength of character.
gṛhonmukhasya punar-vimoktuṃ ka ivāsti doṣaḥ // 6.48 //
he put it on unwillingly, while looking forward to going home: what
fault is there in taking it back off?"
yuvati-janena sāntvyamānā hṛta-hṛdayā ramaṇena sundarī sā
consoled by her little women when her husband had
purloined her heart,
pureva rambhā kṣitim-agamat parivāritāpsarobhiḥ // 6.49 //
came to earth, just as Rambhā,
with her heart turned towards Dramiḍa, came once upon a time,
enfolded in the midst of sister apsarases.
mahā-kāvye bhāryā-vilāpo nāma ṣaṣṭhaḥ sargaḥ //6//
6th canto in the epic poem Handsome Nanda, titled "A Wife's