LXX. HE IS INDIFFERENT TO HIS WORLDLY FORTUNE

No matter what fortune thou grantest me, nothing is wanting if I forget thee not. Birth and labour and sorrow I take as sheer delight, if I but see Śyāmā's rain-clouds in my heart. A body smeared with ashes or decked with jewels and gold; a lodging beneath a tree or a seat on a royal throne—to Kamalākānta all are one, if thou, my Mother, make his heart thy shrine.

LXXI. HE IS ENTIRELY DEPENDENT ON KĀLĪ;

I want nought else, O Śyāmā, save your two red feet.[222] And this boon I hear Tripurāri,[223] too, has taken. To see him thus possessed robs me of all my courage.

Relations, friends, my children, wife—all stay to share my happiness; but when ill-fortune comes, not one remains. I am become as those whose house is on the outskirts of the village.[224]

If by your own virtue you would save me, then look on me with kindly eyes. Else all this talk that by repetition of your name I may possess you is merest emptiness.

This is the word of Kamalākānta: I tell the Mother all my many woes. My rosary is in an old patched [73]bag,[225] and hangs there in the room where I have told my beads.[226]

FOOTNOTES:

[222] Her feet are red from treading the battlefield.

[223] Śiva, 'the enemy of Tripura,' a demon whom he killed.

[224] I. e. I am treated as an Outcaste.

[225] Of rudrāksha berries, sacred to Śiva and Śakti. While telling his beads, a Hindu usually holds the rosary inside a small bag which covers his hand. When not in use, the rosary is kept in the bag.

[226] It is no use worshipping her, unless she attend to him; so he abandons her worship.

LXXII. KĀLĪ'S POWER

O Kālī ever happy, delight of Mahākāla's mind, you dance for very joy and clap your hands in measure with your dance.

You are the primal element, immutable; you are dark-hued as empty space, and wear the moon-sign[227] on your forehead.

From whence, before the world was framed, did you get your garland of heads?

We act in this machine according to the Tantra rules, and you are the one mechanic.

As you have placed me, so I stay; as you have taught me, so I speak.

The restless Kamalākānta reproaches you and says: This time, Destroyer of all, you have taken your sword and put an end to good and evil alike.[228]

FOOTNOTES:

[227] Kālī has a third eye in her forehead and under that the crescent moon.

[228] He is discontented and without peace of mind, and her activity seems to him merely destructive.

LXXIII. THE POET'S GREAT HAPPINESS

My mind is a bee[229] sated with the blue lotus of Śyāmā's feet. The sweets of wealth are all despised, so too the flowers of passionate desire.

Black are her feet, black is the bee; and black with black has mingled.

[74]

See you, Five Elements,[230] drunkards beyond all others, you could not hold your ground when you looked on this happiness.

Kamalākānta's mind has at last been filled with hope; see how joy and sorrow have become one! The sea of happiness is overflowing.

FOOTNOTES:

[229] The large black bumble-bee, a great favourite of Bengali poets.

[230] Of which the body is made. These betray us into an intoxication of the senses; but the poet, engrossed in the worship of Kālī, is beyond the sphere of their power.