bhartṛhari's vairāgya śatakam is the third part of the śataka-triśati - verses that turn the mind from restless craving toward clarity and freedom. Here vairāgya is not bitterness; it is the sober strength to enjoy what is appropriate without being owned by it.
Many verses are intentionally sharp, even unsettling, because they are meant to break complacency. The poet repeatedly exposes how tṛṣṇā (craving) disguises itself as "just one more" and keeps the mind running, and how vivēka (discernment) begins when we see the cost of that running.
chūḍōttaṃsitachandrachārukalikāchañchachChikhābhāsvarō
līlādagdhavilōlakāmaśalabhaḥ śrēyōdaśāgrē sphuran ।
antaḥsphūrjadapāramōhatimiraprāgbhāraṃ uchchāṭayan
śvētaḥsadmani yōgināṃ vijayatē jñānapradīpō haraḥ ॥ 3.1 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Shiva, the lamp of knowledge, triumphs in the pure abode of yogins: his crest shines with the flickering crescent moon; he playfully burned the fluttering moth of desire; and he uproots the dense darkness of boundless delusion that flares up within.
bhrāntaṃ dēśaṃ anēkadurgaviṣamaṃ prāptaṃ na kiñchitphalaṃ
tyaktvā jātikulābhimānaṃ uchitaṃ sēvā kṛtā niṣphalā ।
bhuktaṃ mānavivarjitaṃ paragṛhēṣvāśaṅkayā kākavat
tṛṣṇē jṛmbhasi pāpakarmapiśunē nādyāpi santuṣyasi ॥ 3.2 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
I have wandered many harsh lands and gained no result; abandoned pride of birth and served appropriately yet fruitlessly; eaten in others' houses like a suspicious crow without honor - O craving, you keep yawning, betrayer that drives harmful deeds, and even now you are not satisfied.
utkhātaṃ nidhiśaṅkayā kṣititalaṃ dhmātā girērdhātavō
nistīrṇaḥ saritāṃ patirnṛpatayō yatnēna santōṣitāḥ ।
mantrārādhanatatparēṇa manasā nītāḥ śmaśānē niśāḥ
prāptaḥ kāṇavarāṭakō'pi na mayā tṛṣṇē sakāmā bhava ॥ 3.3 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
I dug the earth suspecting treasure, smelted mountain ores, crossed the ocean, and labored to please kings; with a mind devoted to mantra-worship I spent nights in cremation grounds - yet I did not obtain even a paltry coin. O craving, do not remain desireful.
khalālāpāḥ sauḍhāḥ kathaṃ api tadārādhanaparairnigṛhyāntar
bāṣpaṃ hasitaṃ api śūnyēna manasā ।
kṛtō vittastambhapratihatadhiyāṃ añjalirapi
tvaṃ āśē mōghāśē kima aparaṃ atō nartayasi mām ॥ 3.4 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
In those noisy palaces, the ones who serve them somehow suppress inner tears, and even laughter is forced by an empty mind; even salutations are offered by minds blocked by the arrogance of wealth. O vain Hope, what more is there - why do you still make me dance?
amīṣāṃ prāṇānāṃ tulitavisinīpatrapayasāṃ
kṛtē kiṃ nāsmābhirvigalitavivēkairvyavasitam ।
yadāḍhyānāṃ agrē draviṇamadaniḥsañjñamanasāṃ
kṛtaṃ māvavrīḍairnijaguṇakathāpātakaṃ api ॥ 3.5 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
For these fragile lives, like water on lotus leaves, what have we not done with discernment lost? For we, shameless, have even committed the "sin" of talking about our own virtues before the rich whose minds are numbed by the intoxication of wealth.
kṣāntaṃ na kṣamayā gṛhōchitasukhaṃ tyaktaṃ na santōṣataḥ
sōḍhō duḥsahaśītatāpapavanaklēśō na taptaṃ tapaḥ ।
dhyātaṃ vittaṃ aharniśaṃ nityamitaprāṇairna śambhōḥ padaṃ
tattatkarma kṛtaṃ yadēva munibhistaistaiḥ phalairvañchitāḥ ॥ 3.6 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
We did not truly cultivate forgiveness; we did not abandon even ordinary comforts through contentment; we endured cold, heat, wind, and hardship, yet did not practice real austerity; we meditated on wealth day and night with our limited life-breaths, not on Shiva's feet. Thus the sages who did such works were "cheated" by the very fruits they gained.
bhōgā na bhuktā vayaṃ ēva bhuktās
tapō na taptaṃ vayaṃ ēva taptāḥ ।
kālō na yātō vayaṃ ēva yātāstṛṣṇā
na jīrṇā vayaṃ ēva jīrṇāḥ ॥ 3.7 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
We did not enjoy pleasures; pleasures consumed us. We did not practice austerity; hardship burned us. Time did not pass; we passed away. Craving did not grow old; we grew old.
balibhirmukhaṃ ākrāntaṃ palitēnāṅkitaṃ śiraḥ ।
gātrāṇi śithilāyantē tṛṣṇaikā taruṇāyatē ॥ 3.8 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
The face is overpowered by weakness, the head is marked by grey hair, and the limbs slacken; only craving remains young.
vivēkavyākōśē vidadhati samē śāmyati tṛṣā
pariṣvaṅgē tuṅgē prasaratitarāṃ sā pariṇatā ।
jarājīrṇaiśvaryagrasanagahanākṣēpakṛpaṇastṛṣāpātraṃ
yasyāṃ bhavati marutāṃ apyadhipatiḥ ॥ 3.8.1 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
In the wide expanse of discernment, craving becomes calm; but in an intense embrace it spreads even more. Ensnared in the dense distractions of old age and power, even the lord of the gods can become a mere vessel of thirst.
nivṛttā bhōgēchChā puruṣabahumānō'pi galitaḥ
samānāḥ svaryātāḥ sapadi suhṛdō jīvitasamāḥ ।
śanairyaṣṭyutthānaṃ ghanatimiraruddhē cha nayanē
ahō mūḍhaḥ kāyastadapi maraṇāpāyachakitaḥ ॥ 3.9 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Desire for pleasure has ceased, and even self-respect has slipped away; friends, equal to life itself, have departed. Rising now requires a staff, and the eyes are blocked by thick darkness - alas, the foolish body is still frightened of the danger of death.
āśā nāma nadī manōrathajalā tṛṣṇātaraṅgākulā
rāgagrāhavatī vitarkavihagā dhairyadrumadhvaṃsinī ।
mōhāvartasudustarātigahanā prōttuṅgachintātaṭī
tasyāḥ paragatā viśuddhaṃ alasō nandanti yōgīśvarāḥ ॥ 3.10 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Hope is a river whose water is imagination, turbulent with waves of craving; it has crocodiles of attachment, birds of restless thoughts, and it destroys the tree of steadiness. It is a terribly deep whirlpool of delusion with high banks of worry. Those who have crossed beyond it - the great yogins - rejoice in effortless purity.
na saṃsārōtpannaṃ charitaṃ anupaśyāmi kuśalaṃ
vipākaḥ puṇyānāṃ janayati bhayaṃ mē vimṛśataḥ ।
mahadbhiḥ puṇyaughaiśchiraparigṛhītāścha viṣayā
mahāntō jāyantē vyasanaṃ iva dātuṃ viṣayiṇām ॥ 3.11 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
I do not see any truly safe conduct that is born of worldly life; when I reflect, even the fruits of merit produce fear in me. Sense objects obtained through great accumulated merit often become great misfortunes for those who indulge in them.
avaśyaṃ yātāraśchirataraṃ uṣitvāpi viṣayā
viyōgē kō bhēdastyajati na janō yatsvayaṃ amūn ।
vrajantaḥ svātantryādatulaparitāpāya manasaḥ
svayaṃ tyaktā hyētē śamasukhaṃ anantaṃ vidadhati ॥ 3.12 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Sense objects will inevitably depart, even if they stay a long time; in separation, what difference is there between a person giving them up and them giving up the person? When they depart of their own will they bring incomparable torment to the mind, but when one renounces them willingly they bestow endless peace.
brahmajñānavivēkanirmaladhiyaḥ kurvantyahō duṣkaraṃ
yanmuñchantyupabhōgabhāñjyapi dhanānyēkāntatō niḥspṛhāḥ ।
samprātānna purā na samprati na cha prāptau dṛḍhapratyayān
vāñChāmātraparigrahānapi paraṃ tyaktuṃ na śaktā vayam ॥ 3.13 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
How difficult a thing those with minds purified by Brahman-knowledge and discernment accomplish: with complete dispassion they utterly abandon wealth that enables enjoyment. But we, lacking firm conviction in past, present, or final attainment, cannot give up even mere wish-driven grasping.
dhanyānāṃ girikandarēṣu vasatāṃ jyōtiḥ paraṃ dhyāyatāmānandāśru
jalaṃ pibanti śakunā niḥśaṅkaṃ aṅkēśayāḥ ।
asmākaṃ tu manōrathōparachitaprāsādavāpītaṭakrīḍā
kānanakēlikautukajuṣāṃ āyuḥ paraṃ kṣīyatē ॥ 3.14 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Blessed are those who live in mountain caves meditating on the supreme light: birds perched on their laps drink the water of their tears of bliss without fear. But our lives are worn away in pleasures of imagination - playing at the banks of palace-ponds and in pleasure-groves built by wishful thoughts.
bhikṣāśataṃ tadapi nīrasaṃ ēkabāraṃ
śayyā cha bhūḥ parijanō nijadēhamātram ।
vastraṃ viśīrṇaśatakhaṇḍamayī cha kanthā
hā hā tathāpi viṣayā na parityajanti ॥ 3.15 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Even if one lives on tasteless alms once a day, sleeps on the earth with no companion but one's own body, and wears only a rag made of a hundred torn patches - alas, even then the cravings for sense objects do not leave.
stanau māṃsagranthī kanakakalaśāvityupamitī
mukhaṃ ślēṣmāgāraṃ tadapi cha śaśāṅkēna tulitam ।
sravanmūtraklinnaṃ karivaraśiraspardhi jaghanaṃ
muhurnindyaṃ rūpaṃ kavijanaviśēṣairgurukṛtam ॥ 3.16 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Breasts are mere knots of flesh, yet compared to golden pots; the face is a house of phlegm, yet compared to the moon; the hips are soaked with flowing urine, yet rival an elephant's brow. Again and again this contemptible body is made "great" by poets.
ēkō rāgiṣu rājatē priyatamādēhārdhahārī harō
nīrāgēṣu janō vimuktalalanāsaṅgō na yasmātparaḥ ।
durvārasmarabāṇapannagaviṣavyābiddhamugdhō janaḥ
śēṣaḥ kāmaviḍambitānna viṣayānbhōktuṃ na mōktuṃ kṣamaḥ ॥ 3.17 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Among the passionate, only Shiva stands out - he who bears half of his beloved's body. Among the dispassionate, none is greater than the one free from attachment to women. The rest of humanity, deluded and pierced by the poison of Cupid's serpent-like arrows, can neither truly enjoy sense objects nor truly renounce them.
ajānandāhātmyaṃ patatu śalabhastīvradahanē
sa mīnō'pyajñānādbaḍiśayutaṃ aśnātu piśitam ।
vijānantō'pyētē vayaṃ iha viyajjālajaṭilān
na muñchāmaḥ kānāṃ ahaha gahanō mōhamahimā ॥ 3.18 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Not knowing the fire's true nature, a moth falls into the fierce flame; and a fish, through ignorance, swallows bait with a hook attached. But we, even knowing, do not let go of these tangled nets of attraction - alas, deep is the power of delusion.
tṛṣā śuṣyatyāsyē pibati salilaṃ śītamadhuraṃ
kṣudhārtaḥ śālyannaṃ kavalayati māṃsādikalitam ।
pradīptē kāmāgnau sudṛḍhataraṃ āliṅgati vadhūṃ
pratīkāraṃ vyādhaḥ sukhaṃ iti viparyasyati janaḥ ॥ 3.19 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
When thirst dries the mouth one drinks cool sweet water; when hunger bites one eats rice and meat; when the fire of desire blazes one clings tightly to a woman - people mistake the "remedy" for a disease as pleasure.
tuṅgaṃ vēśma sutāḥ satāṃ abhimatāḥ saṅkhyātigāḥ sampadaḥ
kalyāṇī dayitā vayaścha navaṃ ityajñānamūḍhō janaḥ ।
matvā viśvaṃ anaśvaraṃ niviśatē saṃsārakārāgṛhē
sandṛśya kṣaṇabhaṅguraṃ tadakhilaṃ dhanyastu sannyasyati ॥ 3.20 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Thinking, "I have a lofty house, children, esteem among the good, countless wealth, a virtuous beloved, and youth," the ignorant person believes the world permanent and settles into the prison-house of worldly life. The blessed one, seeing all this to be momentary, renounces.
dīnā dīnamukhaiḥ sadaiva śiśukairākṛṣṭajīrṇāmbarā
krōśadbhiḥ kṣudhitairnirannavidhurā dṛśyā na chēdgēhinī ।
yāchñābhaṅgabhayēna gadgadagalatruṭyadvilīnākṣaraṃ
kō dēhīti vadētsvadagdhajaṭharasyārthē manasvī pumān ॥ 3.21 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
If one's wife must be seen in utter distress - her worn clothes tugged by hungry, crying children - then who with self-respect would, merely for his own burning hunger, beg "Give (me)" in a choking, faltering voice, afraid his request will be refused?
abhimatamahāmānagranthiprabhēdapaṭīyasī
gurutaraguṇagrāmābhōjasphuṭōjjvalachandrikā ।
vipulavilallajjāvallīvitānakuṭhārikā
jaṭharapiṭharī duspurēyaṃ karōti viḍambanam ॥ 3.22 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
This hard-to-fill pit of the stomach makes a mockery: it is expert at cutting the knot of cherished pride, it shines like moonlight that makes virtues bloom, and it acts like an axe that fells even luxuriant modesty.
puṇyē grāmē vanē vā mahati sitapaṭachChannapālī kapāliṃ
hyādāya nyāyagarbhadvijahutahutabhugdhūmadhūmrōpakaṇṭhē ।
dvāraṃ dvāraṃ praviṣṭō varaṃ udaradarīpūraṇāya kṣudhārtō
mānī prāṇaiḥ sanāthō na punaranudinaṃ tulyakulyēsu dīnaḥ ॥ 3.23 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Better, when hungry, to take the begging bowl covered with a white cloth and go door to door in a holy village or in a great forest whose outskirts are grey with sacrificial smoke, simply to fill the cave of the belly - than to be day after day a miserable dependent among one's peers and kinsmen.
gaṅgātaraṅgakaṇaśīkaraśītalāni
vidyādharādhyuṣitachāruśilātalāni ।
sthānāni kiṃ himavataḥ pralayaṃ gatāni
yatsāvamānaparapiṇḍaratā manuṣyāḥ ॥ 3.24 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Have the cool Himalayan retreats - chilled by the Ganga's spray and graced by lovely rock-ledges - vanished into destruction, that people choose to live on others' morsels even while accepting insult?
kiṃ kandāḥ kandarēbhyaḥ pralayaṃ upagatā nirjharā vā giribhyaḥ
pradhvastā vā tarubhyaḥ sarasagalabhṛtō valkalinyaścha śākhāḥ ।
vīkṣyantē yanmukhāni prasabhaṃ apagatapraśrayāṇāṃ khalānāṃ
duḥkhāptasvalpavittasmayapavanavaśānartitabhrūlatāni ॥ 3.25 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Have cave-roots vanished, have mountain streams dried up, or have trees with juicy fruits and bark-bearing branches been destroyed - that people must, against their will, look upon the faces of insolent rogues who have lost all courtesy, their eyebrow-creepers dancing under the wind of pride from hard-won little wealth?
puṇyairmūlaphalaistathā praṇayinīṃ vṛttiṃ kuruṣvādhunā
bhūśayyāṃ navapallavairakṛpaṇairuttiṣṭha yāvō vanam ।
kṣudrāṇāṃ avivēkamūḍhamanasāṃ yatrēśvarāṇāṃ sadā
vittavyādhivikāravihvalagirāṃ nāmāpi na śrūyatē ॥ 3.26 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Now make your livelihood lovingly with sacred roots and fruits, make the earth your bed with fresh tender leaves, and rise - let us go to the forest, where the very names of petty people with deluded minds, who forever chatter anxiously about wealth and power, are not even heard.
phalaṃ svēchChālabhyaṃ prativanaṃ akhēdaṃ kṣitiruhāṃ
payaḥ sthānē sthānē śiśiramadhuraṃ puṇyasaritām ।
mṛdusparśā śayyā sulalitalatāpallavamayī
sahantē santāpaṃ tadapi dhanināṃ dvāri kṛpaṇāḥ ॥ 3.27 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Fruits can be had at will in every forest, cool sweet water is found everywhere from holy rivers, and a soft bed can be made from tender leafy creepers - and yet these wretched people still endure suffering at the doors of the rich.
yē vartantē dhanapatipuraḥ prārthanāduḥkhabhājō
yē chālpatvaṃ dadhati viṣayākṣēpaparyāptabuddhēḥ ।
tēṣāṃ antaḥsphuritahasitaṃ vāsarāṇi smarēyaṃ
dhyānachChēdē śikharikuharagrāvaśayyāniṣaṇṇaḥ ॥ 3.28 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
May I remember, with an inward smile, the days of those who suffer begging before the wealthy, and of those who embrace meanness with minds content only with sensory distraction, while I lie on a stone-bed in a mountain cave during pauses in meditation.
yē santōṣanirantarapramuditastēṣāṃ na bhinnā mudō
yē tvanyē dhanalubdhasaṅkaladhiyastēsāṃ na tṛṣṇāhatā ।
itthaṃ kasya kṛtē kutaḥ sa vidhinā kīdṛkpadaṃ sampadāṃ
svātmanyēva samāptahēmamahimā mērurna mē rōchatē ॥ 3.29 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Those whose joy is continually rooted in contentment never have their happiness broken; but those greedy for wealth, with confused minds, never have their craving destroyed. So why did the Creator fashion the mountain Meru, whose golden glory is complete in itself? It does not attract me.
bhikṣāhāraṃ adainyaṃ apratisukhaṃ bhītichChidaṃ sarvatō
durmātsaryamadābhimānamathanaṃ duḥkhaughavidhvaṃsanam ।
sarvatrānvahaṃ aprayatnasulabhaṃ sādhupriyaṃ pāvanaṃ
śambhōḥ satraṃ avāyaṃ akṣayanidhiṃ śaṃsanti yōgīśvarāḥ ॥ 3.30 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Food obtained as alms is not degrading; it gives a joy that does not depend on pleasing others, and it is free from fear. It crushes envy, arrogance, and pride, destroys the flood of suffering, is available everywhere day after day with little effort, dear to the holy and purifying. The perfected yogis praise it as Shiva's inexhaustible charity kitchen, always accessible.
bhōgē rōgabhayaṃ kulē chyutibhayaṃ vittē nṛpālādbhayaṃ
mānē dainyabhayaṃ balē ripubhayaṃ rūpē jarāyā bhayam ।
śāstrē vādibhayaṃ guṇē khalabhayaṃ kāyē kṛtāntādbhayaṃ
sarvaṃ vastu bhayānvitaṃ bhuvi nṛṇāṃ vairāgyamēvābhayam ॥ 3.31 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
In pleasure there is fear of illness; in family, fear of decline; in wealth, fear of rulers; in honor, fear of humiliation; in strength, fear of enemies; in beauty, fear of old age; in learning, fear of challengers; in virtue, fear of the wicked; in the body, fear of death. Everything people hold in the world is mixed with fear; only dispassion is without fear.
ākrāntaṃ maraṇēna janma jarasā chātyujjvalaṃ yauvanaṃ
santōṣō dhanalipsayā śamasukhaṃ prauḍhāṅganāvibhramaiḥ ।
lōkairmatsaribhirguṇā vanabhuvō vyālairnṛpā durjanair
asthairyēṇa vibhūtayō'pyapahatā grastaṃ na kiṃ kēna vā ॥ 3.32 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Birth is seized by death, bright youth by old age; contentment by greed for wealth, and the happiness of peace by the charms of passion. Virtues are attacked by envy, forest-lands by beasts, kings by the wicked, and even prosperity by instability. What, then, is not afflicted by something or other?
ādhivyādhiśatairjanasya vividhairārōgyaṃ unmūlyatē
lakṣmīryatra patanti tatra vivṛtadvārā iva vyāpadaḥ ।
jātaṃ jātaṃ avaśyaṃ āśu vivaśaṃ mṛtyuḥ karōtyātmasāt
tatkiṃ tēna niraṅkuśēna vidhinā yannirmitaṃ susthiram ॥ 3.33 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Hundreds of varied ailments uproot people's health. Wherever fortune settles, misfortunes arrive as if through doors flung wide open. Whatever is born, death quickly makes helpless and claims again and again. What, then, has this uncontrolled Creator made that can be called truly stable?
bhōgāstuṅgataraṅgabhaṅgataralāḥ prāṇāḥ kṣaṇadhvaṃsinaḥ
stōkānyēva dināni yauvanasukhaṃ sphūrtiḥ priyāsu sthitā ।
tatsaṃsāraṃ asāraṃ ēva nikhilaṃ buddhvā budhā bōdhakā
lōkānugrahapēśalēna manasā yatnaḥ samādhīyatām ॥ 3.34 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Pleasures are fickle like the crash of tall waves; life can be destroyed in a moment; the days of youthful happiness are few, and passion's thrill rests in the beloved. Knowing this whole cycle of worldly life to be without substance, let the wise teachers, with a mind softened by compassion for the world, strive for inner absorption.
bhōgā mēghavitānamadhyavilasatsaudāminīchañchalā
āyurvāyuvighaṭṭitābjapaṭalīlīnāmbuvadbhaṅguram ।
līlā yauvanalālasāstanubhṛtāṃ ityākalayya drutaṃ
yōgē dhairyasamādhisiddhisulabhē buddhiṃ vidadhvaṃ budhāḥ ॥ 3.35 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Pleasures are fickle like lightning flashing in cloud-canopies. Life is as fragile as a drop resting on a lotus petal, shaken by the wind. Youthful longings waver like a game. Seeing this clearly, wise people quickly steady the mind in disciplined practice that yields courage, inner absorption, and real attainment.
āyuḥ kallōlalōlaṃ katipayadivasasthāyinī yauvanaśrīḥ
arthāḥ saṅkalpakalpā ghanasamayataḍidvibhramā bhōgapūgāḥ ।
kaṇṭhāślēṣōpagūḍhaṃ tadapi cha na chiraṃ yatpriyābhiḥ praṇītaṃ
brahmaṇyāsaktachittā bhavata bhavabhayāmbhōdhipāraṃ tarītum ॥ 3.36 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Life wavers like waves; the splendor of youth lasts only a few days. Wealth is as fleeting as a thought, and heaps of pleasures are like lightning in stormy seasons. Even a beloved's close embrace does not last long. So fix your mind on the Absolute, if you want to cross the ocean of fear that belongs to worldly existence.
kṛchChrēṇāmēdhyamadhyē niyamitatanubhiḥ sthīyatē garbhavāsē
kāntāviślēṣaduḥkhavyatikaraviṣamō yauvanē chōpabhōgaḥ ।
vāmākṣīṇāṃ avajñāvihasitavasatirvṛddhabhāvō'nyasādhuḥ
saṃsārē rē manuṣyā vadata yadi sukhaṃ svalpaṃ apyasti kiñchit ॥ 3.37 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
In the womb one stays confined in filth and discomfort; in youth even enjoyment is bitter, tangled with the pain of separation from the beloved; in old age one lives amid contempt and laughter. O people, tell me - in such worldly life, does even a little real happiness exist?
vyāghrīva tiṣṭhati jarā paritarjayantī
rōgāścha śatrava iva praharanti dēham ।
āyuḥ parisravanti bhinnaghaṭādivāmbhō
lōkastathāpyahitaṃ ācharatīti chitram ॥ 3.38 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Old age stands like a tigress, threatening; diseases attack the body like enemies; the life-span leaks away like water from a cracked pot. Yet people still act in ways that harm them - how strange.
bhōgā bhaṅguravṛttayō bahuvidhāstairēva chāyaṃ bhavastat
kasyēha kṛtē paribhramata rē lōkāḥ kṛtaṃ chēṣṭataiḥ ।
āśāpāśaśatāpaśāntiviśadaṃ chētaḥsamādhīyatāṃ
kāmōtpattivaśātsvadhāmani yadi śraddēyaṃ asmadvachaḥ ॥ 3.39 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
This worldly life is made only of many kinds of fragile pleasures. For whose sake, and to what end, do you keep roaming here in constant exertion? Let the mind be gathered into clear absorption by quieting the hundred nooses of hope that arise from desire - if my words are worth trusting.
sakhē dhanyāḥ kēchittruṭitabhavabandhavyatikarā
vanāntē chittāntarviṣaṃ aviṣayāśītviṣagatāḥ ।
śarachchandrajyōtsnādhavalagaganābhōgasubhagāṃ
nayantē yē rātriṃ sukṛtachayachintaikaśaraṇāḥ ॥ 3.39.1 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
O friend, blessed are those few who have snapped the tangle of worldly bondage. In the forest they reach an objectless coolness that pacifies the mind's inner poison; under the beautiful expanse of an autumn-moonlit sky, they pass the night taking refuge only in contemplation of their store of virtue.
brahmēndrādimarudgaṇāṃstṛṇakaṇānyatra sthitō manyatē
yatsvādādvirasā bhavanti vibhavāstrailōkyarājyādayaḥ ।
bhōgaḥ kō'pi sa ēva ēka paramō nityōditō jṛmbhatē
bhōḥ sādhō kṣaṇabhaṅgurē taditarē bhōgē ratiṃ mā kṛthāḥ ॥ 3.40 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
For one established there, Brahma, Indra, and the other hosts of gods seem like mere blades of grass; and even the greatest riches - like sovereignty over the three worlds - become tasteless. There is one supreme enjoyment that shines eternally. O seeker, do not cling to other pleasures that break in a moment.
sā ramyā nagarī mahānsa nṛpatiḥ sāmantachakraṃ cha tat
pārśvē tasya cha sā vidagdhapariṣattāśchandrabimbānanāḥ ।
udvṛttaḥ sa rājaputranivahastē vandinastāḥ kathāḥ
sarvaṃ yasya vaśādagātsmṛtipathaṃ kālāya tasmai namaḥ ॥ 3.41 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
That delightful city, that great king and his circle of vassals, that cultured court of moon-faced beauties, that headstrong crowd of princes, those bards, those tales - all of it has gone down the road of memory under the power of Time. Salutations to Time.
yatrānēkaḥ kvachidapi gṛhē tatra tiṣṭhatyathaikō
yatrāpyēkastadanu bahavastatra naikō'pi chāntē ।
itthaṃ nēyau rajanidivasau lōlayandvāvivākṣau
kālaḥ kalyō bhuvanaphalakē krīḍati prāṇiśāraiḥ ॥ 3.42 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
In some house there were many, and later only one remains; where there was one, later there are many; and in the end not even one is left. Thus Time, the clever player, plays on the world-board, rolling night and day like two dice, moving living beings as the pieces.
ādityasya gatāgatairaharahaḥ saṅkṣīyatē jīvitaṃ
vyāpārairbahukāryabhāragurubhiḥ kālō'pi na jñāyatē ।
dṛṣṭvā janmajarāvipattimaraṇaṃ trāsaścha nōtpadyatē
pītvā mōhamayīṃ pramādamadirāṃ unmattabhūtaṃ jagat ॥ 3.43 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
With the sun's daily rising and setting, life keeps shrinking; and under the heavy burden of countless tasks, even time itself is not noticed. Though birth, aging, misfortune, and death are seen, fear does not arise, because the world has become intoxicated by the wine of delusion called heedlessness.
rātriḥ saiva punaḥ sa ēva divasō matvā mudhā jantavō
dhāvantyudyaminastathaiva nibhṛtaprārabdhatattatkriyāḥ ।
vyāpāraiḥ punaruktabhūtaviṣayairitthaṃ vidhēnāmunā
saṃsārēṇa kadarthitā vayaṃ ahō mōhānna lajjāmahē ॥ 3.44 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Night is the same again, and the day is the same again; yet creatures, thinking vainly, keep running in busyness, repeating their destined actions. With activities and sense-pursuits endlessly repeated, we are degraded by this cycle of worldly life - and, alas, through delusion we feel no shame.
na dhyānaṃ padaṃ īśvarasya vidhivatsaṃsāravichChittayē
svargadvārakapāṭapāṭanapaṭurdharmō'pi nōpārjitaḥ ।
nārīpīnapayōdharōruyugalaṃ svapnē'pi nāliṅgitaṃ
mātuḥ kēvalaṃ ēva yauvanavanachChēdē kuṭhārā vayam ॥ 3.45 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
We have not properly meditated on the Lord's feet to cut the bondage of worldly life. We have not earned even the merit skilled enough to break open heaven's gate. We have not even in dreams embraced a woman's full breasts and thighs. We were born only to become axes that cut down our mother's forest of youth.
nābhyastā prativādivṛndadamanī vidyā vinītōchitā
khaḍgāgraiḥ karikumbhapīṭhadalanairnākaṃ na nītaṃ yaśaḥ ।
kāntākaumalapallavādhararasaḥ pītō na chandrōdayē
tāruṇyaṃ gataṃ ēva niṣphalaṃ ahō śūnyālayē dīpavat ॥ 3.46 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
We have not mastered the disciplined knowledge that subdues the crowd of debaters. We have not carried fame to heaven, as if crushing an elephant's temple with a sword-point. We have not tasted at moonrise the nectar of a beloved's tender sprout-like lips. Youth has passed away fruitlessly - like a lamp in an empty house.
vidyā nādhigatā kalaṅkarahitā vittaṃ cha nōpārjitaṃ
śuśrūṣāpi samāhitēna manasā pitrōrna sampāditā ।
ālōlāyatalōchanāḥ priyatamāḥ svapnē'pi nāliṅgitāḥ
kālō'yaṃ parapiṇḍalōlupatayā kākairiva prēryatē ॥ 3.47 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
We have not gained blemishless knowledge, nor earned wealth; we have not even served our parents with a collected mind. We have not embraced, even in dreams, our beloveds with dancing eyes. Time drives us on, like crows pushed by greed for another's morsel.
vayaṃ yēbhyō jātāśchiraparigatā ēva khalu tē
samaṃ yaiḥ saṃvṛddhāḥ smṛtiviṣayatāṃ tē'pi gamitāḥ ।
idānīṃ ētē smaḥ pratidivasaṃ āsannapatanā
gatāstulyāvasthāṃ sikatilanadītīratarubhiḥ ॥ 3.48 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Those who gave birth to us have long since departed. Those with whom we grew up have also been made only objects of memory. Now, day by day, we are approaching the same condition - like trees standing on the sandy bank of a river, near to falling.
āyurvarṣaśataṃ nṛṇāṃ parimitaṃ rātrau tadardhaṃ gataṃ
tasyārdhasya parasya chārdhaṃ aparaṃ bālatvavṛddhatvayōḥ ।
śēṣaṃ vyādhiviyōgaduḥkhasahitaṃ sēvādibhirnīyatē
jīvē vāritaraṅgachañchalatarē saukhyaṃ kutaḥ prāṇinām ॥ 3.49 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Human life is limited to a hundred years; half of it is spent in nights. Of the remaining half, another half is lost to childhood and old age. The rest is spent amid illness, separation, sorrow, and service to others. In a life more fickle than water-waves, where is lasting happiness for living beings?
kṣaṇaṃ bālō bhūtvā kṣaṇaṃ api yuvā kāmarasikaḥ
kṣaṇaṃ vittairhīnaḥ kṣaṇaṃ api cha sampūrṇavibhavaḥ ।
jarājīrṇairaṅgairnaṭa iva balīmaṇḍitatanūr
naraḥ saṃsārāntē viśati yamadhānīyavanikām ॥ 3.50 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
For a moment one is a child, for another moment a desire-driven youth; for a moment poor, for another moment wealthy. At the end, the body worn out by age and marked by wrinkles, a person enters Death's dwelling like an actor leaving the stage.
tvaṃ rājā vayaṃ apyupāsitaguruprajñābhimānōnnatāḥ
khyātastvaṃ vibhavairyaśāṃsi kavayō dikṣu pratanvanti naḥ ।
itthaṃ mānadhanātidūraṃ ubhayōrapyāvayōrantaraṃ
yadyasmāsu parāṅmukhō'si vayaṃ apyēkāntatō niḥspṛhā ॥ 3.51 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
You are a king; we too, through service to our teacher, stand uplifted by confidence in wisdom. You are famed by wealth; poets spread our fame in all directions. Thus the distance between us in honor and wealth is very great. If you turn away from us, we too are entirely without desire for you.
arthānāṃ īśiṣē tvaṃ vayaṃ api cha girāṃ īśmahē yāvadarthaṃ
śūrastvaṃ vādidarpavyupaśamanavidhāvakṣayaṃ pāṭavaṃ naḥ ।
sēvantē tvāṃ dhanāḍhyā matimalahatayē māṃ api śrōtukāmāḥ ।
mayyapyāsthā na tē chēttvayi mama nitarāṃ ēva rājannanāsthā ॥ 3.52 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
You are master of wealth; we too are masters of speech, in its true sense. You are brave; we have unfailing skill in subduing the pride of debaters. The rich serve you; and those who wish to cleanse their minds by listening come to me as well. If you have no regard for me, then, O king, I have none for you either.
vayaṃ iha parituṣṭā valkalaistvaṃ dukūlaiḥ
sama iha paritōṣō nirviśēṣō viśēṣaḥ ।
sa tu bhavatu daridrō yasya tṛṣṇā viśālā
manasi cha parituṣṭē kō'rthavānkō daridraḥ ॥ 3.53 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
We are content here with tree-barks; you with fine garments - yet contentment is the same, and the difference is insignificant. Let him be the truly poor one whose craving is vast. When the mind is content, who is rich and who is poor?
phalaṃ alaṃ aśanāya svādu pānāya tōyaṃ
kṣitirapi śayanārthaṃ vāsasē valkalaṃ cha ।
navadhanamadhupānabhrāntasarvēndriyāṇāṃ
avinayaṃ anumantuṃ nōtsahē durjanānām ॥ 3.54 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Fruit is enough to eat, sweet water is enough to drink, earth is enough for a bed, and tree-bark is enough for clothing. I do not have the heart to tolerate the insolence of wicked people whose senses are bewildered by the intoxicating drink of newly gained wealth.
aśnīmahi vayaṃ bhikṣāṃ āśāvāsō vasīmahi ।
śayīmahi mahīpṛṣṭhē kurvīmahi kiṃ īśvaraiḥ ॥ 3.55 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
We will eat alms, wear the open sky as our clothing, and sleep on the earth. What do we need with rulers?
na naṭā nā viṭā na gāyakā na cha sabhyētaravādachuñchavaḥ ।
nṛpaṃ īkṣituṃ atra kē vayaṃ stanabhārānamitā na yōṣitaḥ ॥ 3.56 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
We are not actors, not jesters, not singers, nor professional court-debaters; and we are not women bent by the weight of their breasts. Then who are we, here, to go and look at the king?
vipulahṛdayairīśairētajjagajjanitaṃ purā
vidhṛtaṃ aparairdattaṃ chānyairvijitya tṛṇaṃ yathā ।
iha hi bhuvanānyanyairdhīrāśchaturdaśa bhuñjatē
katipayapurasvāmyē puṃsāṃ ka ēṣa madajvaraḥ ॥ 3.57 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
In earlier times this world was built up by generous kings, ruled by others, and conquered and thrown away like straw by still others. Even now, some heroes enjoy the fourteen worlds. So what is this fever of pride in people over being lord of just a few towns?
abhuktāyāṃ yasyāṃ kṣaṇaṃ api na yātaṃ nṛpaśatair
bhuvastasyā lābhē ka iva bahumānaḥ kṣitibhṛtām ।
tadaṃśasyāpyaṃśē tadavayalēśē'pi patayō
viṣādē kartavyē vidadhati jaḍāḥ pratyuta mudam ॥ 3.58 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
The earth is such that it has not been left un-enjoyed even for a moment by hundreds of kings. What great honor can there be for rulers in acquiring it? Yet fools, even when they get only a fraction - even a tiny fragment - feel joy when sorrow would be more appropriate.
mṛtpiṇḍō jalarēkhayā valayitaḥ sarvō'pyayaṃ nanvaṇuḥ
svāṃśīkṛtya sa ēva saṅgaraśatai rājñāṃ gaṇā bhuñjatē ।
yē dadyurdadatō'thavā kiṃ aparaṃ kṣudrā daridraṃ bhṛśaṃ
dhigdhiktānpuruṣādhamāndhanakaṇānvāñChanti tēbhyō'pi yē ॥ 3.59 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
This entire earth is only a clod of clay, ringed by a line of water - and even then it is but a tiny atom. Groups of kings claim and enjoy it after hundreds of battles. Whether they give or do not give, what else can be expected from such petty, spiritually poor people? Shame on those lowest of men who still desire even small coins from them.
sa jātaḥ kō'pyāsīnmadanaripuṇā mūrdhni dhavalaṃ
kapālaṃ yasyōchchairvinihitaṃ alaṅkāravidhayē ।
nṛbhiḥ prāṇatrāṇapravaṇamatibhiḥ kaiśchidadhunā
namadbhiḥ kaḥ puṃsāṃ ayaṃ atuladarpajvarabharaḥ ॥ 3.60 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Truly someone was born whose white skull, after death, is placed high on Shiva's head as an ornament. But today, with minds bent on saving their own lives, some people bow down (to the proud). What is this unbearable burden of pride-fever among men?
parēṣāṃ chētāṃsi pratidivasaṃ ārādhya bahudhā
prasādaṃ kiṃ nētuṃ viśasi hṛdaya klēśakalitam ।
prasannē tvayyantaḥsavayamuditachintāmaṇigaṇō
viviktaḥ saṅkalpaḥ kiṃ abhilaṣitaṃ puṣyati na tē ॥ 3.61 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
O mind, why do you enter into distress day after day, in so many ways, just to win the favor of other people's minds? When you are calm within, a whole cluster of wish-fulfilling gems arises of itself; with a clear solitary resolve, what desired thing will you not obtain?
satyāṃ ēva trilōkīsariti haraśiraśchumbinīvachChaṭāyāṃ
sadvṛttiṃ kalpayantyāṃ baṭaviṭapabhavairvalkalaiḥ satphalaiścha ।
kō'yaṃ vidvānvipattijvarajanitarujātīvaduḥkhāsikānāṃ
vaktraṃ vīkṣēta duḥsthē yadi hi na vibhṛyātsvē kuṭumbē'nukampām ॥ 3.61.1 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
When the sacred river of the three worlds is present, its spray touching Shiva's head, and when a good livelihood can be arranged from tree-bark and good fruits, what wise person would, in distress, look at the miserable faces of those who "cough" grief as if stricken by the fever of misfortune - unless he had compassion for his own family?
paribhramasi kiṃ mudhā kvachana chitta viśrāmyatāṃ
svayaṃ bhavati yadyathā bhavati tattathā nānyathā ।
atītaṃ ananusmarannapi cha bhāvyasaṅkalpayannatarkita
samāgamānubhavāmi bhōganāham ॥ 3.62 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Mind, why wander pointlessly? Rest somewhere. Whatever happens, happens of its own accord; it cannot be otherwise. Not replaying the past and not scripting the future, I taste the enjoyments that arrive unplanned.
ētasmādviramēndriyārthagahanādāyāsakādāśrayaśrēyō
mārgaṃ aśēṣaduḥkhaśamanavyāpāradakṣaṃ kṣaṇāt ।
svātmībhāvaṃ upaihi santyaja nijāṃ kallōlalōlaṃ gatiṃ
mā bhūyō bhaja bhaṅgurāṃ bhavaratiṃ chētaḥ prasīdādhunā ॥ 3.63 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Turn away from this exhausting tangle of sense-objects and take refuge in the path of true welfare, which can remove all sorrow in a moment. Attain your own deepest nature; abandon your wave-like restless course. Do not cling again to the fragile pleasures of worldly life. Be calm now, O mind.
mōhaṃ mārjaya tāṃ upārjaya ratiṃ chandrārdhachūḍāmaṇau
chētaḥ svargataraṅgiṇītaṭabhuvāṃ āsaṅgaṃ aṅgīkuru ।
kō vā vīchiṣu budbudēṣu cha taḍillēkhāsu cha śrīṣu cha
jvālāgrēṣu cha pannagēṣu saridvēgēṣu cha chapratyayaḥ ॥ 3.64 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Wipe away delusion and cultivate love for the moon-crowned Lord. O mind, choose to stay by the bank of the heavenly river. For what trust can there be in waves and bubbles, streaks of lightning, fortune, flame-tips, serpents, or rushing river-currents?
chētaśchintaya mā ramāṃ sakṛdimāṃ asthāyinīṃ āsthayā
bhūpālabhrukuṭīkuṭīviharaṇavyāpārapaṇyāṅganām ।
kanthākañchukinaḥ praviśya bhavanadvārāṇi vārāṇasīrathyā
paṅktiṣu pāṇipātrapatitāṃ bhikṣāṃ apēkṣāmahē ॥ 3.65 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Mind, do not rely even once on fickle fortune, which behaves like a courtesan at the business of a king's eyebrow-frown. Wearing rags and entering house-doors along the streets of Varanasi, let us seek the alms that fall into the hand used as a bowl.
agrē gītaṃ sarasakavayaḥ pārśvayōrdākṣiṇātyāḥ
paśchāllīlāvalayaraṇitaṃ chāmaragrāhiṇīnām ।
yadyastyēvaṃ kuru bhavarasāsvādanē lampaṭatvaṃ
nō chēchchētaḥ praviśa sahasā nirvikalpē samādhau ॥ 3.66 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
If before you there is music, skilled poets at your sides, and behind you the playful jingling of bangles of women holding fans, then go ahead and indulge in tasting worldly pleasures. If not, O mind, enter at once into thought-free absorption.
prāptāḥ śriyaḥ sakalakāmadudhāstataḥ kiṃ
nyastaṃ padaṃ śirasi vidviṣatāṃ tataḥ kim ।
sampāditāḥ praṇayinō vibhavaistataḥ kiṃ
kalpaṃ sthitāstanubhṛtāṃ tanavastataḥ kim ॥ 3.67 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
So what if you gain prosperity that seems to grant every desire? So what if enemies place a foot on your head? So what if lovers are obtained by wealth? So what if bodies could last for ages? What does it finally change?
bhaktirbhavē maraṇajanmabhayaṃ hṛdisthaṃ
snēhō na bandhuṣu na manmathajā vikārāḥ ।
saṃsarja dōṣarahitā vijayā vanāntā
vairāgyaṃ asti kiṃ itaḥ paramarthanīyam ॥ 3.68 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Let there be devotion, and let the awareness of birth and death sit in the heart; let there be no clinging to relatives, and no passion-born disturbances. Let solitary forest-life, free from the defects of social entanglement, prevail. What dispassion beyond this is worth seeking?
tasmādanantaṃ ajaraṃ paramaṃ vikāsi
tadbrahma chintaya kiṃ ēbhirasadvikalpaiḥ ।
yasyānuṣaṅgiṇa imē bhuvanādhipatyabhōgādayaḥ
kṛpaṇalōkamatā bhavanti ॥ 3.69 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Therefore contemplate the infinite, ageless, supremely expansive Reality - why occupy yourself with insubstantial mental fancies? For one centered in that, even sovereignty over worlds and all pleasures are regarded as trifles by ordinary people.
pātālaṃ āviśasi yāsi nabhō vilaṅghya
diṅmaṇḍalaṃ bhramasi mānasa chāpalēna ।
bhrāntyāpi jātu vimalaṃ kathaṃ ātmanīnaṃ
na brahma saṃsarasi nirvṛtiṃ ēṣi yēna ॥ 3.70 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
You dive into the depths, leap into the sky, and roam the horizon with restless fickleness. Even while wandering this way, how do you not turn to the pure inner Reality by which you would attain true peace?
kiṃ vēdaiḥ smṛtibhiḥ purāṇapaṭhanaiḥ śāstrairmahāvistaraiḥ
svargagrāmakuṭīnivāsaphaladaiḥ karmakriyāvibhramaiḥ ।
muktvaikaṃ bhavaduḥkhabhārarachanāvidhvaṃsakālānalaṃ
svātmānandapadapravēśakalanaṃ śēsairvāṇigvṛttibhiḥ ॥ 3.71 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
What use are the Vedas, Smritis, Puranas, vast treatises, and the dizzying rituals that promise heavenly enjoyments, if they do not deliver the one thing: the fire that destroys the burden of worldly suffering and opens entry into the bliss of the Self? Everything else is just speech made into a trade.
nāyaṃ tē samayō rahasyaṃ adhunā nidrāti nāthō yadi
sthitvā drakṣyati kupyati prabhuriti dvārēṣu yēṣāṃ vachaḥ ।
chētastānapahāya yāhi bhavanaṃ dēvasya viśvēśitur
nirdauvārikanirdayōktyaparuṣaṃ niḥsaumaśarmapradam ॥ 3.71.1 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
This is not your time, and it is no secret: "If the Lord is sleeping now, he will wake, see you, and get angry," say those who stand at the doors. O mind, leave them and go to the Lord of the universe, whose house has no gatekeepers, no harsh words, and gives gentle refuge.
yatō mēruḥ śrīmānnipatati yugāntāgnivalitaḥ
samudrāḥ śuṣyanti prachuramakaragrāhanilayāḥ ।
dharā gachChatyantaṃ dharaṇidharapādairapi dhṛtā
śarīrē kā vārtā karikalabhakarṇāgrachapalē ॥ 3.72 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
When even the glorious Meru falls at the end of an age, when oceans dry up despite being homes to countless sea-creatures, and when the earth itself reaches its end though supported by mountains - what certainty can there be about this body, fickle as the tip of a baby elephant's ear?
gātraṃ saṅkuchitaṃ gatirvigalitā bhraṣṭā cha dantāvalir
dṛṣṭirnakṣyati vardhatē badhiratā vaktraṃ cha lālāyatē ।
vākyaṃ nādriyatē cha bāndhavajanō bhāryā na śuśrūṣatē
hā kaṣṭaṃ puruṣasya jīrṇavayasaḥ putrō'pyamitrāyatē ॥ 3.73 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
The limbs shrink, the gait falters, the teeth fail; eyesight decays, deafness grows, and the mouth drools. One's words are ignored, relatives do not value you, the wife does not attend - alas, in old age even the son can turn hostile.
varṇaṃ sitaṃ śirasi vīkṣya śirōruhāṇāṃ
sthānaṃ jarāparibhavasya tadā pumāṃsam ।
ārōpitāṃsthiśatakaṃ parihṛtya yānti
chaṇḍālakūpaṃ iva dūrataraṃ taruṇyaḥ ॥ 3.74 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Seeing white hair on a man's head and the onset of the humiliations of old age, young women abandon him and go far away - as if he were an outcaste's well ringed with bones.
yāvatsvasthaṃ idaṃ śarīraṃ arujaṃ yāvachcha dūrē jarā
yāvachchēndriyaśaktirapratihatā yāvatkṣayō nāyuṣaḥ ।
ātmaśrēyasi tāvadēva viduṣā kāryaḥ prayatnō mahān
sandīptē bhavanē tu kūpakhananaṃ pratyudyamaḥ kīdṛśaḥ ॥ 3.75 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
As long as this body is healthy and free from infirmity, as long as old age is far, as long as the senses are unimpaired and life has not begun to wane - only till then should the wise make great effort toward the highest good. What use is digging a well when the house is on fire?
tapasyantaḥ santaḥ kiṃ adhinivasāmaḥ suranadīṃ
guṇōdārāndārānuta paricharāmaḥ savinayam ।
pibāmaḥ śāstraughānutavividhakāvyāmṛtarasān
na vidmaḥ kiṃ kurmaḥ katipayanimēṣāyuṣi janē ॥ 3.76 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
We ascetics do not know what to do in this life that lasts only a few blinks: should we dwell by the heavenly river, or serve our virtuous wives with humility, or drink the streams of scriptures, or the nectar-essence of various poems?
durārādhyāśchāmī turagachalachittāḥ kṣitibhujō
vayaṃ tu sthūlēchChāḥ sumahati phalē baddhamanasaḥ ।
jarā dēhaṃ mṛtyurharati dayitaṃ jīvitaṃ idaṃ
sakhē nānyachChrēyō jagati viduṣē'nyatra tapasaḥ ॥ 3.77 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
These rulers are hard to please, their minds as restless as a moving horse; and we, with coarse desires, keep our minds bound to huge results. Old age takes the body, death takes this dear life. Friend, for the wise there is no better good in the world than disciplined striving.
mānē mlāyini khaṇḍitē cha vasuni vyarthē prayātē'rthini
kṣīṇē bandhujanē gatē parijanē naṣṭē śanairyauvanē ।
yuktaṃ kēvalaṃ ētadēva sudhiyāṃ yajjahnukanyāpayaḥpūtāgrāva
girīndrakandarataṭīkuñjē nivāsaḥ kvachit ॥ 3.78 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
When honor fades, wealth is ruined, and those who once sought you disappear; when friends diminish, dependents depart, and youth slowly vanishes - the wise have only one fitting course: to live somewhere in a Himalayan cave-grove whose rocks are sanctified by the waters of the Ganga.
ramyāśchandramarīchayastṛṇavatī ramyā vanāntasthalī
ramyaṃ sādhusamāgamāgatasukhaṃ kāvyēṣu ramyāḥ kathāḥ ।
kōpōpāhitabāṣpabindutaralaṃ ramyaṃ priyāyā mukhaṃ
sarvaṃ ramyaṃ anityatāṃ upagatē chittē na kiñchitpunaḥ ॥ 3.79 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Moonbeams on grass are charming; the forest is charming; the joy of meeting the wise is charming; stories in poetry are charming; even a beloved's face shimmering with tear-drops of indignation is charming. But once the mind has truly absorbed impermanence, nothing charms it again in the same way.
ramyaṃ harmyatalaṃ na kiṃ vasatayē śravyaṃ na gēyādikaṃ
kiṃ vā prāṇasamāsamāgamasukhaṃ naivādhikaprītayē ।
kintu bhrāntapataṅgakṣapavanavyālōladīpāṅkurachChāyā
chañchalaṃ ākalayya sakalaṃ santō vanāntaṃ gatāḥ ॥ 3.80 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Isn't living on a palace-terrace delightful? Isn't music delightful? Isn't the joy of company as dear as life the greatest pleasure? Yet the wise, realizing that all this is as fickle as the shadow of a lamp-flame shaken by a night-forest wind around a hovering moth, have gone to the forest.
ā saṃsārāttribhuvanaṃ idaṃ chinvatāṃ tāttādṛṅnaivāsmākaṃ
nayanapadavīṃ śrōtramārgaṃ gatō vā ।
yō'yaṃ dhattē viṣayakariṇō gāḍhagūḍhābhimānakṣīvasyāntaḥ
karaṇakariṇaḥ saṃyamālānalīlām ॥ 3.81 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
From the beginning of worldly life, searching all three worlds, dear one, we have not seen or heard anything like this: the worship that acts like a restraint-stake for the inner mind, intoxicated by deep-hidden ego and drawn by the she-elephant of sense-objects.
yadētatsvachChandaṃ viharaṇaṃ akārpaṇyaṃ aśanaṃ
sahāryaiḥ saṃvāsaḥ śrutaṃ upaśamaikavrataphalam ।
manō mandaspandaṃ bahirapi chirasyāpi vimṛśanna
jānē kasyaiṣā pariṇatirudārasya tapasaḥ ॥ 3.82 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
This free wandering, this eating without meanness, this company of the noble, and this learning - all yield the single fruit of tranquility. Even after long reflection, I cannot tell whose great austerity has ripened into such an outcome.
jīrṇā ēva manōrathāścha hṛdayē yātaṃ cha tadyauvanaṃ
hantāṅgēṣu guṇāśbandhyaphalatāṃ yātā guṇajñairvinā ।
kiṃ yuktaṃ sahasābhyupaiti balavānkālaḥ kṛtāntō'kṣamī
hā jñātaṃ madanāntakāṅghriyugalaṃ muktvāsti nānyō gatiḥ ॥ 3.83 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Desires have worn out and youth has departed; virtues have become fruitless when there are no people who recognize them. Relentless death approaches quickly - what is the right course? Alas, apart from taking refuge at the feet of the Destroyer of desire, there is no other way.
mahēśvarē vā jagatāṃ adhīśvarē
janārdanē vā jagadantarātmani ।
na vastubhēdapratipattirasti mē
tathāpi bhaktistaruṇēnduśēkharē ॥ 3.84 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Whether it is Maheshvara, the Lord of worlds, or Janardana, the inner Self of the universe, I perceive no difference of reality. And yet my devotion is to the moon-crested one.
sphuratsphārajyōtsnādhavalitatalē kvāpi pulinē
sukhāsīnāḥ śāntadhvantisu rajanīṣu dyusaritaḥ ।
bhavābhōgōdvignāḥ śiva śiva śivētyuchchavachasaḥ
kadā yāsyāmō'targatabahulabāṣpākuladaśām ॥ 3.85 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
When will we, weary of worldly experience, sit happily on some moonlit river-bank in silent nights, repeating "Shiva, Shiva" in varied tones, and reach that inner state flooded with abundant tears?
mahādēvō dēvaḥ saridapi cha saiṣā surasaridguhā
ēvāgāraṃ vasanaṃ api tā ēva haritaḥ ।
suhṛdā kālō'yaṃ vrataṃ idaṃ adainyavrataṃ idaṃ
kiyadvā vakṣyāmō vaṭaviṭapa ēvāstu dayitā ॥ 3.85.1 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Mahadeva is our God, this river is the divine river, the cave itself is our home, and the green leaves and trees themselves are our clothing. Time is our friend; this is our vow of dignified non-begging. What more is there to say? Let the banyan tree itself be our beloved.
vitīrṇē sarvasvē taruṇakaruṇāpūrṇahṛdayāḥ
smarantaḥ saṃsārē viguṇapariṇāmāṃ vidhigatim ।
vayaṃ puṇyāraṇyē pariṇataśarachchandrakiraṇās
triyāmā nēsyāmō haracharaṇachintaikaśaraṇāḥ ॥ 3.86 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
After giving away everything, with hearts full of tender compassion, remembering the sorrowful outcomes of worldly life and the course of fate, let us spend the nights in holy forests, mellow like autumn moonbeams, taking refuge only in contemplation of Shiva's feet.
kadā vārāṇasyāṃ amarataṭinīrōdhasi vasan
vasānaḥ kaupīnaṃ śirasi nidadhānō'ñjalipuṭam ।
ayē gaurīnātha tripurahara śambhō trinayana
prasīdētyākrōśannimiṣaṃ iva nēṣyāmi divasān ॥ 3.87 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
When will I live in Varanasi on the banks of the celestial river, wearing only a loincloth, holding folded hands above my head, and crying out, "O Lord of Gauri, slayer of Tripura, Shambho, three-eyed one, be gracious" - spending my days as if they were only a moment?
udyānēṣu vichitrabhōjanavidhistīvrātitīvraṃ tapaḥ
kaupīnāvaraṇaṃ suvastraṃ amitaṃ bhikṣāṭanaṃ maṇḍanam ।
āsannaṃ maraṇaṃ cha maṅgalasamaṃ yasyāṃ samutpadyatē
tāṃ kāśīṃ parihṛtya hanta vibudhairanyatra kiṃ sthīyatē ॥ 3.87.1 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
In Kashi, even gardens feel like intense austerity, varied foods become a form of discipline, a loincloth counts as fine clothing, begging becomes an ornament, and death itself feels auspicious when it draws near. Alas, after leaving such Kashi, where else can the wise even stay?
snātvā gāṅgaiḥ payōbhiḥ śuchikusumaphalairarchayitvā vibhō tvā
dhyēyē dhyānaṃ nivēśya kṣitidharakuharagrāvaparyaṅkamūlē ।
ātmārāmaḥ phalāśī guruvachanaratastvatprasādātsmarārē
duḥkhaṃ mōkṣyē kadāhaṃ samakaracharaṇē puṃsi sēvāsamuttham ॥ 3.88 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
After bathing in the waters of the Ganga and worshipping you with pure flowers and fruits, fixing meditation on you while seated on a rock-bed in a mountain cave, rejoicing in the Self, living on fruits, and delighting in the teacher's words - O enemy of desire, when will you free me by your grace from the sorrow that comes from serving a mere mortal?
ēkākī niḥspṛhaḥ śāntaḥ pāṇipātrō digambaraḥ ।
kadā śambhō bhaviṣyāmi karmanirmūlanakṣamaḥ ॥ 3.89 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
When, O Shambho, will I become solitary, desireless, and peaceful - using my hand as a bowl, the sky as clothing, and capable of uprooting the roots of action?
pāṇiṃ pātrayatāṃ nisargaśuchinā bhaikṣēṇa santuṣyatāṃ
yatra kvāpi niṣīdatāṃ bahutṛṇaṃ viśvaṃ muhuḥ paśyatām ।
atyāgē'pi tanōrakhaṇḍaparamānandāvabōdhaspṛśā
madhvā kō'pi śivaprasādasulabhaḥ sampatsyatē yōginām ॥ 3.90 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Let the hand be used as a bowl, and let one be content with naturally pure alms; let one sit anywhere, constantly seeing the world as no more than a blade of grass. Even before the body is fully given up, a taste of unbroken supreme joy can arise - and, for such yogis, a sweet grace of Shiva makes liberation easy to attain.
kaupīnaṃ śatakhaṇḍajarjarataraṃ kanthā punastādṛśī
naiśchintyaṃ nirapēkṣabhaikṣyaṃ aśanaṃ nidrā śmaśānē vanē ।
svātantryēṇa niraṅkuśaṃ viharaṇaṃ svāntaṃ praśāntaṃ sadā
sthairyaṃ yōgamahōtsavē'pi cha yadi trailōkyarājyēna kim ॥ 3.91 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
If a person wears only a loincloth tattered into a hundred rags and a similarly worn cloak, lives free of anxiety, eats alms without expectation, sleeps in a forest or cremation ground, roams freely, keeps the mind always calm, and remains steady even in the great joy of yoga - then what value is ruling the three worlds?
brahmāṇḍaṃ maṇḍalīmātraṃ kiṃ lōbhāya manasvinaḥ ।
śapharīsphurtēnābdhiḥ kṣubdhō na khalu jāyatē ॥ 3.92 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
For the noble-minded, this universe is only a small sphere - why greed? The ocean does not become turbulent because a tiny fish darts about in it.
mātarlakṣmi bhajasva kañchidaparaṃ matkāṅkṣiṇī mā sma bhūr
bhōgēṣu spṛhayālavastava vaśē kā niḥspṛhāṇāṃ asi ।
sadyaḥ syūtapalāśapatrapuṭikāpātraiḥ pavitrīkṛtair
bhikṣāvastubhirēva samprati vayaṃ vṛttiṃ samīhāmahē ॥ 3.93 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Mother Lakshmi, go elsewhere; do not long for me. Those who crave pleasures are under your sway - what are you to those without craving? Now we seek livelihood only through alms, gathered and purified in quickly made leaf-pouch bowls.
mahāśayyā pṛthvī vipulaṃ upadhānaṃ bhujalatāṃ
vitānaṃ chākāśaṃ vyajanaṃ anukūlō'yaṃ anilaḥ ।
śarachchandrō dīpō virativanitāsaṅgamuditaḥ
sukhī śāntaḥ śētē muniratanubhūtirnṛpa iva ॥ 3.94 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
With the earth as a great bed, the arms as a large pillow, the sky as a canopy, a gentle breeze as a fan, the autumn moon as a lamp, and renunciation as conjugal delight - the sage sleeps happily and peacefully, like a king, though without possessions.
bhikṣāsī janamadhyasaṅgarahitaḥ svāyattachēṣṭaḥ sadā
hānādānaviraktamārganirataḥ kaśchittapasvī sthitaḥ ।
rathyākīrṇaviśīrṇajīrṇavasanaḥ samprāptakanthāsanō
nirmānō nirahaṅkṛtiḥ śamasukhābhōgaikabaddhaspṛhaḥ ॥ 3.95 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
A certain ascetic lives on alms, free from crowded company, always acting in self-reliance, devoted to a path detached from gain and loss. Wearing worn-out rags found in the streets and sitting on a cloth obtained by chance, he is without pride and ego, desiring only the joy of a calm, controlled mind.
chaṇḍālaḥ kiṃ ayaṃ dvijātirathavā śūdrō'tha kiṃ tāpasaḥ
kiṃ vā tattvavivēkapēśalamatiryōgīśvaraḥ kō'pi kim ।
ityutpannavikalpajalpamukharairābhāṣyamāṇā janair
na kruddhāḥ pathi naiva tuṣṭamanasō yānti svayaṃ yōginaḥ ॥ 3.96 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
"Is he an outcaste, a twice-born, a shudra, an ascetic - or perhaps some lordly yogi whose mind is refined by discernment of truth?" When people chatter like this, debating and labeling, the yogis themselves walk on, neither angry nor pleased.
hiṃsāśūnyaṃ ayatnalabhyaṃ aśanaṃ dhātrā marutkalpitaṃ
vyālānaṃ paśavastṛṇāṅkurabhujastuṣṭāḥ sthalīśāyinaḥ ।
saṃsārārṇavalaṅghanakṣamadhiyāṃ vṛttiḥ kṛtā sā nṛṇāṃ
tāṃ anvēṣayatāṃ prayānti satataṃ sarvaṃ samāptiṃ guṇāḥ ॥ 3.97 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
The creator has arranged for snakes to live on air as food, obtained without violence or effort; beasts are content eating grass-sprouts and sleeping on the ground. Likewise, for people whose intellect can cross the ocean of worldly existence, such a way of living has been provided. Those who seek it can bring their restless qualities to cessation.
gaṅgātīrē himagiriśilābaddhapadmāsanasya
brahmadhyānābhyasanavidhinā yōganidrāṃ gatasya ।
kiṃ tairbhāvyaṃ mama sudivasairyatra tē nirviśaṅkāḥ
kaṇḍūyantē jaraṭhahariṇāḥ svāṅgaṃ aṅgē madīyē ॥ 3.98 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Seated in lotus posture on a Himalayan rock on the bank of the Ganga, and entering yogic sleep through steady practice of meditation on the supreme reality - when will such blessed days come to me, when fearless old deer rub and scratch their bodies upon my limbs?
jīrṇāḥ kanthā tataḥ kiṃ sitaṃ amalapaṭaṃ paṭṭasūtraṃ tataḥ kiṃ
ēkā bhāryā tataḥ kiṃ hayakarisugaṇairāvṛtō vā tataḥ kim ।
bhaktaṃ bhuktaṃ tataḥ kiṃ kadaśanaṃ athavā vāsarāntē tataḥ kiṃ
vyaktajyōtirna vāntarmathitabhavabhayaṃ vaibhavaṃ vā tataḥ kim ॥ 3.98.1 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
So what if the cloak is worn, or if the cloth is spotless white silk? So what if there is one wife, or an entourage of horses and elephants? So what if you have eaten, or if you eat only once at the end of the day? Whether your splendor is evident, or your heart is churned by fear of worldly existence - what does such prosperity amount to?
pāṇiḥ pātraṃ pavitraṃ bhramaṇaparigataṃ bhaikṣyaṃ akṣayyaṃ annaṃ
vistīrṇaṃ vastraṃ āśādaśakaṃ achapalaṃ talpaṃ asvalpaṃ urvīm ।
yēṣāṃ niḥsaṅgatāṅgīkaraṇapariṇatasvāntasantōṣiṇastē
dhanyāḥ sannyastadainyavyatikaranikarāḥ karma nirmūlayanti ॥ 3.99 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Blessed are those whose hands serve as a sacred bowl, whose inexhaustible food is alms gathered while wandering, whose garment is the wide expanse of the ten directions, and whose steady, spacious bed is the earth. By accepting solitude their hearts ripen into contentment; abandoning humiliating entanglements, they uproot karma at its very root.
trailōkyādhipatitvaṃ ēva virasaṃ yasminmahāśāsanē
tallabdhvāsanavastramānaghaṭanē bhōgē ratiṃ mā kṛthāḥ ।
bhōgaḥ kō'pi sa ēka ēva paramō nityōditā jṛmbhanē
yatsvādādvirasā bhavanti visayāstrailōkyarājyādayaḥ ॥ 3.99.1 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Even sovereignty over the three worlds becomes tasteless in that higher realm; do not place your delight in pleasures that come from thrones, fine clothes, and honors. There is only one supreme enjoyment: the ever-rising blossoming of inner joy. By tasting it, all sense objects - even world-kingdoms and the rest - become insipid.
mātarmēdini tāta māruti sakhē tējaḥ subandhō jala
bhrātarvyauma nibaddha ēṣa bhavatāṃ antyaḥ praṇāmāñjaliḥ ।
yuṣmatsaṅgavaśōpajātasukṛtasphārasphurannirmalajñānāpāsta
samastamōhamahimā līnē parabrahmaṇi ॥ 3.100 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
O Mother Earth, Father Wind, Friend Fire, dear relative Water, and Brother Sky - this is my final salutation with folded hands to you all. Through my association with you, merits arose and shone forth as pure knowledge that dispelled the full power of delusion. May I now dissolve into the supreme reality.
śayyā śailaśilāgṛhaṃ giriguhā vastraṃ taruṇāṃ tvachaḥ
sāraṅgāḥ suhṛdō nanu kṣitiruhāṃ vṛttiḥ phalaiḥ kaumalaiḥ ।
yēsāṃ nirjharaṃ ambupānaṃ uchitaṃ ratyai tu vidyāṅganā
manyē tē paramēśvarāḥ śirasi yari baddhō na sēvāñjaliḥ ॥ 3.101 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
For those whose bed is a rock-slab, whose home is a mountain cave, whose clothing is the bark of trees; for whom deer are friends and whose livelihood is tender fruits from trees; for whom drinking waterfall water is fitting, and whose delight is the "bride" of knowledge - I consider them the true lords, for they do not have servile folded hands bound upon their head.
dhairyaṃ yasya pitā kṣamā cha jananī śāntiśchiraṃ gēhinī
satyaṃ mitraṃ idaṃ dayā cha bhaginī bhrātā manaḥsaṃyamaḥ ।
śayyā bhūmitalaṃ diśō'pi vasanaṃ jñānāmṛtaṃ bhōjanaṃ
hyētē yasya kuṭumbinō vada sakhē kasmādbhayaṃ yōginaḥ ॥ 3.102 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
For the yogi whose father is courage, mother is forgiveness, wife is enduring peace, friend is truth, sister is compassion, and brother is self-control; whose bed is the earth, whose clothing is the directions, and whose food is the nectar of knowledge - tell me, friend, what fear can remain for him?
ahō vā hārē vā balavati ripau vā suhṛdi vā
maṇau vā lōṣṭhē vā kusumaśayanē vā dṛṣadi vā ।
tṛṇē vā straiṇē vā mama samadṛśō yānti divasāḥ
kvachitpuṇyāraṇyē śiva śiva śivēti pralapataḥ ॥ 3.103 ॥
Translation (bhāvārtha):
Whether with a necklace or without, whether with a strong enemy or a friend, whether with a jewel or a clod, whether on a bed of flowers or on bare stone, whether among grass or women - my days pass in the same way, as I wander somewhere in a sacred forest, repeating "Siva, Siva, Siva."
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