Summary
The poem "Swan"
is a profound meditation on life, death, compassion, and human nature, using
the imagery of a wounded swan and the interactions between Siddhartha and
Devadatta. The swan symbolizes the soul, seeking refuge and struggling between
the forces of life and death.
The poem opens with a cosmic perspective, describing the swan’s cry as resonating throughout the universe, embodying the eternal essence of existence. Life is interconnected with the essence of creation, expressed through Vedantic principles of "I am That, thou art That."
The Poem
“Swan! Swan!”
Resonant everywhere in the world,
The alphabet, the word,
Permeates every particle.
The sound of the divine, explosive,
All forms in flux,
Rising and setting.
Echoing within, the blue sky of the mind,
Form and formless,
Existence-consciousness-bliss.
Life pulsates in every atom,
The dance of the whirlpool,
Symbolic,
Countless clusters of blossoms on the kadamba tree.
Contained within the closed fig bud,
Life unfolds freely.
This meaningful conclusion,
The essence of the Upanishads,
The ultimate statement of Vedanta,
"I am That, thou art That."
हंसः!
“Swan!”
Amidst the
thousand-petaled lotus,
The formless
Brahman resounds.
Today, that same
swan,
Wounded, battered,
Bathed in crimson
streams of blood.
Facing death
directly,
It falls Upon the
earth.
In the throes of
death,
Utterly helpless,
unsupported, and forlorn.
Its chest stained
with spilled blood,
Half-closed eyes
releasing tears.
Nirvana, liberation, Siddhartha,
The distressed swan, captive and pained.
In perpetual search, a timeless abode,
Rests upon the prince’s chest,
Effortlessly expressing compassion.
An infinite network of familial love,
Reassurance and solace fully received.
As the breath shatters upward,
Broken and trembling,
Agonized and torn,
Mind and body sing,
Anxious eyes flicker,
Tears fall like dewdrops.
Life.
Whose call is this?
Yes.
Defeated, crying out to death,
A tiny water droplet,
A gust of wind.
That’s all.
Such is its recognition.
In these fleeting moments, devoid of foundation.
Death is inevitable,
No other alternative.
Yet,
Bound by the ties of attachment,
The swan,
Once ensnared by strong wings,
Stood there, secure and unharmed.
Injured, but resolute,
It sang,
Its pure white feathers now crimson.
Trembling, moving with purpose,
Addressing the young prince.
“In the Azure Sky”
Not the flight of parrots, sparrows, or other birds,
But a procession of cranes adorned the azure sky.
Why?
It was a line of herons,
And I was the one who descended,
Spreading my wings across both sides.
Any wounded bird could have sought refuge,
At the feet of the divine, it could have arrived.
Yet, it was I who came,
Addressed as “I reside here.”
In the Mansarovar, at Kailash,
Among a thousand-petaled lotus,
An ambrosial realm,
I, radiant with light,
Embodied life force,
Adorned by my own essence,
A thousand-petaled lotus, an elixir of immortality.
And you,
The eternal wanderer of life’s path,
Have come to alleviate suffering.
To halt the cycle of birth and death,
I stand before you today,
Indirectly narrating the world’s anguish.
From the thorns of worldly desires,
Wounded and seeking solace,
I have arrived here,
In your shadow.
Fatigued and distressed,
Who is this traveler?
Who is this seeker?
Hold on to this discernment, O absorbed prince,
Suddenly awakened,
He beheld the terrifying form of Devadatta.
The swan, trembling with fear, clung to his chest,
He saw it directly, face to face,
From an intimate distance.
Devadatta sternly addressed the prince, “Kumar!
I have bound this swan, Return my lost swan to me swiftly.”
Kumar replied, "Devadatta,
Let there be no confrontation.
Whose arrow wounded it?
Its purpose is not to be harmed.
I pulled the arrow from its body,
Washed it clean with my upper garment,
Bound it with care.
I healed its wounded heart,
Embracing it within my arms.
Now, with tear-filled eyes,
A heart pulsating with hope,
It gazes at me for protection.
It has found refuge in my shelter,
Fear dispelled, worry eased.
I am now at peace."
Wriggled
Devdatt-“Yet, I shall carry it.”
In response, Kumar spoke calmly, “Never.”
Abandon this contemplation here,
Do not escalate the debate.
Between taking a life,
And giving life, Understand this truth.
For one who cannot give life,
What right does that person have
To take another’s breath,
Without cause?
Nature is unyielding,
Act as circumstances dictate,
As the mind suggests.
Be human, teeming with noble thoughts.
Avoid cruelty and disdain.
In the flow of development,
All beings, conscious and sentient,
Are imbued with feeling.
Wounded by the arrow of pain,
They erupt like volcanic flames,
Mountains tear open their hearts,
Rivers surge.
Each possesses its inherent strength,
Manifested in its own way.
A universal life force,
Consciousness,
Flows uniformly through all.
Stones, pebbles, rivers,
Trees, plants, inert matter, living beings,
All narrate their own experiences.
Their language is silent suffering.
Human,
Limited by their own nature,
Unaware of this vast universe,
Radiant and boundless.
This bird, !
A gift from the same nature,
Expects only pure, unwavering love.
It remains immersed,
Enduring unbearable pain,
Yearning for a cool, healing touch.
Yes, Not just a bird.
The entire universe,
Pierced by the thorns of desire,
Bleeding, crying out.
Release the bound arrow,
Provide healing.
Devadatta !
Do not become like the useless acacia tree,
Or the sharp thorn of a nagamani gem.
Someone must seek a solution,
Bring peace to the suffering soul.
Today or tomorrow,
Death tugs relentlessly,
Life’s breaths fleeting.
Many have departed,
Many are leaving,
Many will go, In an instant.
Why then?
Why this snatching of life,
This mental torment?
In the crucible of the world,
Destiny churns,
Only the venom of pain,
The poison of suffering.
The ocean of sorrow surges,
Life trapped in a whirlpool,
Constantly agitated,
No shore in sight,
No vessel to cross.
Yet, there is liberation,
Release, Perceive it.
This pristine azure sky,
The lush green trees,
The serene lakes and flowing streams,
Kissing the horizon,
The forest’s verdant expanse.
This wounded bird,
Once healed,
Will soar again,
Sometimes over lakes,
Sometimes among trees,
Wherever it desires,
Naturally finding solace.
It will cause no harm to you. T
his tiny life,
You, the recipient of compassionate grace,
Can transform it,
A mere droplet of empathy.
This innocent being’s life span
Can become an ocean of
compassion. 🕊️1
“Human”
If,
Compassion, love, non-violence, kindness, and equanimity
reside within,
Then, In this celestial experience,
A pure heart, content and unburdened, can exist.
But, Hatred, anger, envy, ego, and selfishness,
Are thorns that pierce the mind.
Only in the blazing fire of adversity,
Does the human soul
refine.
Burning in unbearable suffering,
Day and night,
This mind’s creation,
Choose wisely:
Cultivate fragrant flowers or tend to thorns.
In your own actions,
Find both nectar and poison,
For within you lies
both ambrosia and venom.
Embrace the divine and the infernal,
As they coexist within your being.
“Human!”
Mighty and potent,
Ascending perpetually,
Supremely glorious.
Why not ascend?
Why dwell on descent?
Below lies the abyss,
the dark chasm,
Above awaits eternal light.
Deva Datta, thirsting like a sage,
Challenges,
“Strike me with arrows of words.”
I shall surely claim
my right,
Return that laughter to me now.
Disputes continue, ceaselessly.
Both agreed, “Let us go before the king.
His decision shall prevail.”
Together they went. In the royal court,
King Shuddhodhan
listened
To the discourse between the bird and its adversary.
Smiling, he said, "Beloved child Deva Datta!
Your archery skills are unmatched.
This vast forest region thrives because of you.
Shoot as many arrows as you desire. A
im at as many lives as you wish.
Pierce through your own self-interest.
But remember, this is not an abyss.
It is a refuge for the destitute.
These wings, humbled by seeking shelter,
Will shelter others in turn.
The question here is not about an abyss, But about refuge.
If anyone, deprived, unwell, or wounded,
Steps into your shadow,
You will do the same,
As Siddhartha has just done." 🕊️
Debating with Devadatta,
The prince of archery,
In the vast forest,
You are the cause of abundance.
Sow as many seeds of compassion as you desire,
Nurture countless lives.
But,
This is not a demon.
It is a humble seeker of refuge,
Lamenting the rejection it faces,
Not from demons, but from fellow beings.
The question here is not about demons,
But about compassion and refuge.
When someone, destitute and wounded,
Seeks solace under your shadow,
You will respond as Siddhartha did.
Humanity is shaped by both virtuous and malevolent
tendencies,
Yet the former pave the way for future progress.
When the blazing sun of virtuous deeds rises,
The shadows of malevolence naturally recede.
Here, the question pertains to both refuge and compassion.
Whomever you show kindness,
They will express gratitude,
And your heart will receive their blessings.
If you quench the burning stone with water, It will find
solace.
If you offer water to a tree,
It will bear fruit for you.
Serving the wounded,
You will pave a path of ease and blessings.
Therefore,
Dear Devadatta !
Abandon the cruel sacrifice,
Embrace the sweet lamp of compassion and non-violence.
Only through light can you find light.
This is not a demon,
But a guardian of life.
The one who gave life,
Is the true worshipper of humanity.
Hence,
Behold this swan,
Whose breast bears the mark,
The one who shelters it,
The one who bestowed life,
Is honored with reverence.
In their eyes,
All life is equal,
For the bond between every living being,
Is the thread of existence.
Devadatta !
The right to live,
Belongs equally to all.
However, life is not merely existence,
But a journey of body and soul.
The definition of life, Is profoundly intricate.
It is not merely inhaling and exhaling,
But an intentional passage of time.
Life is more than mere breath,
Balancing physical and intellectual growth,
Harmonizing body and mind,
Until it becomes fragrant
gold. 🕊️1
“Human”
Human strengths,
Embedded in virtuous deeds,
Emerged from the abyss of ignorance,
Wander in the pure light of liberation.
The measure of strength is neither weakness nor equal force.
If…
With intellect and commitment,
You defeat the ambitious,
Then indeed, it is victory.
Moreover, triumph over self,
Not merely through physical prowess,
But by conquering with inner wisdom.
This victory surpasses all others.
Physical strength,
Whether in the monkey king, the intoxicated elephant, or the
bird monarch,
Each displays its prowess at its own level.
Yet, if one becomes wise,
All are naturally defeated.
More powerful than the body,
The mind,
And more glorious than the earthly,
Is the subtle grandeur.
Do not place blind trust in the body,
For it lacks a stable foundation.
Its allure is devoid
of substance.
Even the misuse of its strength should be avoided.
If you can offer refuge,
Relieve someone’s suffering,
That act is supremely meaningful.
Dear Devadatta, !
Life is not merely about taking lives,
But about spreading love, compassion, and healing.
Life’s purpose is eternal,
Not transient.
Every being,
Bound by its own suffering,
Cannot escape for even a moment.
Every soul,
Unable to transcend duality,
Experiences pain.
So, extend your compassion,
Avoid causing unnecessary harm.
Pour the nectar of kindness, love, and non-violence.
Let your heart cool the flames of suffering.
Why not be an inspiration,
Guiding the distressed on their path?
Gather the scattered thorns,
Make them whole,
And create a soothing balm.
Embrace the profound love and unwavering faith of the world,
Nurture it constantly.
Ignite the flame of enlightenment,
Envelop yourself in its brilliance,
And shield it from the dense smoke.
Devadatta !
Rather than taking life,
Distribute affection and compassion.
Make life’s purpose your own.
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