{"collection":"Hinduism","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/hin/sha/sha18.htm","path":"hin/sha/sha18.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/hin/sha/sha18.htm","text":"The Seasons is an unpretentious poem, describing in six short cantos the six seasons into which the Hindus divide the year. The title is perhaps a little misleading, as the description is not objective, but deals with the feelings awakened by each season in a pair of young lovers. Indeed, the poem might be called a Lover's Calendar. Kalidasa's authorship has been doubted, without very cogent argument. The question is not of much interest, as The Seasons would neither add greatly to his reputation nor subtract from it.\nThe whole poem contains one hundred and forty-four stanzas, or something less than six hundred lines of verse. There follow a few stanzas selected from each canto.\nYet love can never fall asleep;\n \u00a0\u00a0For he is waked to-day\n By songs that all their sweetness keep\n \u00a0\u00a0And lutes that softly play,\n By fans with sandal-water wet\n \u00a0\u00a0That bring us drowsy rest,\n By strings of pearls that gently fret\n \u00a0\u00a0Full many a lovely breast.\nThe sunbeams like the fires are hot\n \u00a0\u00a0That on the altar wake; p. 212\n The enmity is quite forgot\n \u00a0\u00a0Of peacock and of snake;\n The peacock spares his ancient foe,\n \u00a0\u00a0For pluck and hunger fail;\n He hides his burning head below\n \u00a0\u00a0The shadow of his tail.\nBeneath the garland of the rays\n \u00a0\u00a0That leave no corner cool,\n The water vanishes in haze\n \u00a0\u00a0And leaves a muddy pool;\n The cobra does not hunt for food\n \u00a0\u00a0Nor heed the frog at all\n Who finds beneath the serpent's hood\n \u00a0\u00a0A sheltering parasol.\nDear maiden of the graceful song,\n \u00a0\u00a0To you may summer's power\n Bring moonbeams clear and garlands long\n \u00a0\u00a0And breath of trumpet-flower,\n Bring lakes that countless lilies dot,\n \u00a0\u00a0Refreshing water-sprays,\n Sweet friends at evening, and a spot\n \u00a0\u00a0Cool after burning days.\nThe clouds, a mighty army, march\n \u00a0\u00a0With drumlike thundering\n And stretch upon the rainbow's arch\n \u00a0\u00a0The lightning's flashing string; p. 213\n The cruel arrows of the rain\n \u00a0\u00a0Smite them who love, apart\n From whom they love, with stinging pain,\n \u00a0\u00a0And pierce them to the heart.\nThe forest seems to show its glee\n \u00a0\u00a0In flowering nipa plants;\n In waving twigs of many a tree\n \u00a0\u00a0Wind-swept, it seems to dance;\n Its ketak-blossom's opening sheath\n \u00a0\u00a0Is like a smile put on\n To greet the rain's reviving breath,\n \u00a0\u00a0Now pain and heat are gone.\nTo you, dear, may the cloudy time\n \u00a0\u00a0Bring all that you desire,\n Bring every pleasure, perfect, prime,\n \u00a0\u00a0To set a bride on fire;\n May rain whereby life wakes and shines\n \u00a0\u00a0Where there is power of life,\n The unchanging friend of clinging vines,\n \u00a0\u00a0Shower blessings on my wife.\nA diadem adorns the night\n \u00a0\u00a0Of multitudinous stars;\n Her silken robe is white moonlight,\n \u00a0\u00a0Set free from cloudy bars;\n And on her face (the radiant moon)\n \u00a0\u00a0Bewitching smiles are shown: p. 214\n She seems a slender maid, who soon\n \u00a0\u00a0Will be a woman grown.\nOver the rice-fields, laden plants\n \u00a0\u00a0Are shivering to the breeze;\n While in his brisk caresses dance\n \u00a0\u00a0The blossom-burdened trees;\n He ruffles every lily-pond\n \u00a0\u00a0Where blossoms kiss and part,\n And stirs with lover's fancies fond\n \u00a0\u00a0The young man's eager heart.\nThe vines, remembering summer, shiver\n \u00a0\u00a0In frosty winds, and gain\n A fuller life from mere endeavour\n \u00a0\u00a0To live through all that pain;\n Yet in the struggle and acquist\n \u00a0\u00a0They turn as pale and wan\n As lonely women who have missed\n \u00a0\u00a0Known love, now lost and gone.\nThen may these winter days show forth\n \u00a0\u00a0To you each known delight,\n Bring all that women count as worth\n \u00a0\u00a0Pure happiness and bright;\n While villages, with bustling cry,\n \u00a0\u00a0Bring home the ripened corn,\n And herons wheel through wintry sky,\n \u00a0\u00a0Forget sad thoughts forlorn.\nWhen all must cheerfully applaud\n \u00a0\u00a0A blazing open fire;\n Or if they needs must go abroad,\n \u00a0\u00a0The sun is their desire;\n When everybody hopes to find\n \u00a0\u00a0The frosty chill allayed\n By garments warm, a window-blind\n \u00a0\u00a0Shut, and a sweet young maid.\nThen may the days of early spring\n \u00a0\u00a0For you be rich and full\n With love's proud, soft philandering\n \u00a0\u00a0And many a candy-pull,\n With sweetest rice and sugar-cane:\n \u00a0\u00a0And may you float above\n The absent grieving and the pain\n \u00a0\u00a0Of separated love.\nTheir blossom-burden weights the trees; \n \u00a0\u00a0The winds in fragrance move;\n The lakes are bright with lotuses,\n \u00a0\u00a0The women bright with love;\n The days are soft, the evenings clear\n \u00a0\u00a0And charming; everything\n That moves and lives and blossoms, dear,\n \u00a0\u00a0Is sweeter, in the spring.\nThe groves are beautifully bright\n \u00a0\u00a0For many and many a mile\n With jasmine-flowers that are as white\n \u00a0\u00a0As loving woman's smile:\n The resolution of a saint\n \u00a0\u00a0Might well be tried by this;\n Far more, young hearts that fancies paint\n \u00a0\u00a0With dreams of loving bliss.","title":"Kalidasa: Shakuntala and Other Works: The Seasons","type":"page"}