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# The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda/Volume 5/Epistles - First Series/I Fakir

I
(Translated from Bengali)
Allahabad
5th January, 1890.
My Dear Fakir,
. . . A word for you. Remember always, I may not see you again. Be moral. Be brave. Be a heart-whole man. Strictly moral, brave unto desperation. Don't bother your head with religious theories. Cowards only sin, brave men never, no, not even in mind. Try to love anybody and everybody. Be a man and try to make those immediately under your care, namely Ram, Krishnamayi, and Indu, brave, moral, and sympathising. No religion for you, my children, but morality and bravery. No cowardice, no sin, no crime, no weakness — the rest will come of itself. . . . And don't take Ram with you ever or ever allow him to visit a theatre or any enervating entertainment whatever.
Yours affectionately, Vivekananda.
My Dear Ram, Krishnamayi, and Indu,
Bear in mind, my children, that only cowards and those who are weak commit sin and tell lies. The brave are always moral. Try to be moral, try to be brave, try to be sympathising.
Yours,
Vivekananda.
# The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda/Volume 5/Epistles - First Series/IL Alasinga

IL
U. S. A., August 1895.
By the time this reaches you, dear Alasinga, I shall be in Paris. . . . I have done a good deal of work this year and hope to do a good deal more in the next. Don't bother about the missionaries. It is quite natural that they should cry. Who does not when his bread is dwindling away? The missionary funds have got a big gap the last two years, and it is on the increase. However, I wish the missionaries all success. So long as you have love for God and Guru and faith in truth, nothing can hurt you, my son. But the loss of any of these is dangerous. You have remarked well; my ideas are going to work in the West better than in India. . . . I have done more for India than India ever did for me. . . . I believe in truth, the Lord sends me workers by the scores wherever I go — and they are not like the . . . disciples either — they are ready to give up their lives for their Guru. Truth is my God, the universe my country I do not believe in duty. Duty is the curse of the Samsâri (householder), not for the Sannyâsin. Duty is humbug. I am free, my bonds are cut; what care I where this body goes or does not go. You have helped me well right along. The Lord will reward you. I sought praise neither from India nor from America, nor do I seek such bubbles. I have a truth to teach, I, the child of God And He that gave me the truth will send me fellow workers from the earth's bravest and best. You Hindus will see in a few years what the Lord does in the West. You are like the Jews of old — dogs in the manger, who neither eat nor allow others to eat. You have no religion your God is the kitchen, your Bible the cooking-pots. . . . You are a few brave lads. . . . Hold on, boys, no cowards among my children. . . . Are great things ever done smoothly? Time, patience, and indomitable will must show. I could have told you many things that would have made your heart leap, but I will not. I want iron wills and hearts that do not know how to quake. Hold on. The Lord bless you.
Ever yours with blessings, Vivekananda.
# The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda/Volume 5/Epistles - First Series/LII Alasinga

LII
Paris, 9th September, 1895.
Dear Alasinga,
. . . I am surprised you take so seriously the missionaries' nonsense. . . . If the people in India want me to keep strictly to my Hindu diet, please tell them to send me a cook and money enough to keep him. This silly bossism without a mite of real help makes me laugh. On the other hand, if the missionaries tell you that I have ever broken the two great vows of the Sannyâsin — chastity and poverty — tell them that they are big liars. Please write to the missionary Hume asking him categorically to write you what misdemeanour he saw in me, or give you the names of his informants, and whether the information was first-hand or not; that will settle the question and expose the whole thing. . . .
As for me, mind you, I stand at nobody's dictation. I know my mission in life, and no chauvinism about me; I belong as much to India as to the world, no humbug about that. I have helped you all I could. You must now help yourselves. What country has any special claim on me? Am I any nation's slave? Don't talk any more silly nonsense, you faithless atheists.
I have worked hard and sent all the money I got to Calcutta and Madras, and then after doing all this, stand their silly dictation! Are you not ashamed? What do I owe to them? Do I care a fig for their praise or fear their blame? I am a singular man, my son, not even you can understand me yet. Do your work; if you cannot, stop; but do not try to "boss" me with your nonsense. I see a greater Power than man, or God, or devil at my back. I require nobody's help. I have been all my life helping others. . . . They cannot raise a few rupees to help the work of the greatest man their country ever produced — Ramakrishna Paramahamsa; and they talk nonsense and want to dictate to the man for whom they did nothing, find who did everything he could for them! Such is the ungrateful world!
Do you mean to say I am born to live and die one of those caste-ridden, superstitious, merciless, hypocritical, atheistic cowards that you find only amongst the educated Hindus? I hate cowardice; I will have nothing to do with cowards or political nonsense. I do not believe in any politics. God and truth are the only politics in the world, everything else is trash.
I am going to London tomorrow. . . .
Yours with blessings, Vivekananda.
# The Elder Edda and the Younger Edda/Younger Edda/Origin of the Dwarfs, and Norns of Destiny

15. "Then the gods, seating themselves upon their thrones, distributed justice, and bethought them how the dwarfs had been bred in the mould of the earth, just as worms are in a dead body. It was, in fact, in Ymir's flesh that the dwarfs were engendered, and began to move and live. At first they were only maggots, but by the will of the gods they at length partook both of human shape and understanding, although they always dwell in rocks and caverns.
"Modsognir and Durin are the principal ones. As it is said in the Voluspa—
# The Elder Edda and the Younger Edda/Younger Edda/The God Frey and Goddess Freyja

25. "Njord had afterwards, at his residence at Noatun, two children, a son named Frey, and a daughter called Freyja, both of them beauteous and mighty. Frey is one of the most celebrated of the gods. He presides over rain and sunshine, and all the fruits of the earth, and should be invoked in order to obtain good harvests, and also for peace. He, moreover, dispenses wealth among men. Freyja is the most propitious of the goddesses; her abode in heaven is called Folkvang. To whatever field of battle she rides, she asserts her right to one half of the slain, the other half belonging to Odin. As it is said—
"Her mansion, called Sessrumnir, is large and magnificent; thence she sallies forth in a car drawn by two cats. She lends a very favourable ear to those who sue to her for assistance. It is from her name that women of birth and fortune are called in our language Freyjor. She is very fond of love ditties, and all lovers would do well to invoke her."
# The Elder Edda and the Younger Edda/Younger Edda/Of the Primordial State of the Universe

4. "But with what did he begin, or what was the beginning of things?" demanded Gangler.
"Hear," replied Har, "what is said in the Voluspa."
| "''Twas time's first dawn, When nought yet was, Nor sand nor sea, Nor cooling wave; Earth was not there, | Nor heaven above. Nought save a void And yawning gulf. But verdure none.'" |
"Many ages before the earth was made," added Jafnhar, "was Niflheim formed, in the middle of which lies the spring-called Hvergelmir, from which flow twelve rivers, Gjoll being the nearest to the gate of the abode of death."
"But, first of all," continued Thridi, "there was in the southern region (sphere) the world called Muspell. It is a world too luminous and glowing to be entered by those who are not indigenous there. He who sitteth on its borders (or the land's-end) to guard it is named Surtur. In his hand he beareth a flaming falchion, and at the end of the world shall issue forth to combat, and shall vanquish all the gods, and consume the universe with fire."
# The Elder Edda and the Younger Edda/Younger Edda/The Golden Age

14. "What did All-father do after Asgard was made?" demanded Gangler.
"In the beginning," answered Har, "he appointed rulers, and bade them judge with him the fate of men, and regulate the government of the celestial city. They met for this purpose in a place called Idavoll, which is in the centre of the divine abode. Their first work was to erect a court or hall wherein are twelve seats for themselves, besides the throne which is occupied by All-father. This hall is the largest and most magnificent in the universe, being resplendent on all sides, both within and without, with the finest gold. Its name is Gladsheim. They also erected another hall for the sanctuary of the goddesses. It is a very fair structure, and called by men Vingolf. Lastly they built a smithy, and furnished it with hammers, tongs, and anvils, and with these made all the other requisite instruments, with which they worked in metal, stone and wood, and composed so large a quantity of the metal called gold that they made all their moveables of it. Hence that age was named the Golden Age. This was the age that lasted until the ​arrival of the women out of Jotunheim, who corrupted it."
# The Elder Edda and the Younger Edda/Younger Edda/Origin of the Frost-Giants

5. "Tell me," said Gangler, "what was the state of things ere the races mingled, and nations came into being."
"When the rivers that are called Elivagar had flowed far from their sources," replied Har, "the venom which they rolled along hardened, as does dross that runs from a furnace, and became ice. When the rivers flowed no longer, and the ice stood still, the vapour arising from the venom gathered over it, and froze to rime, and in this ​manner were formed, in Ginnungagap, many layers of congealed vapour, piled one over the other."
"That part of Ginnungagap," added Jafnhar, "that lies towards the north was thus filled with heavy masses of gelid vapour and ice, whilst everywhere within were whirlwinds and fleeting mists. But the southern part of Ginnungagap was lighted by the sparks and flakes that flew into it from Muspellheim."
"Thus," continued Thridi, "whilst freezing cold and gathering gloom proceeded from Niflheim, that part of Ginnungagap looking towards Muspellheim was filled with glowing radiancy, the intervening space remaining calm and light as wind-still air. And when the heated blast met the gelid vapour it melted it into drops, and, by the might of him who sent the heat, these drops quickened into life, and took a human semblance. The being thus formed was named Ymir, but the Frost-giants call him Orgelmir. From him descend the race of the Frost-giants (Hrimthursar), as it is said in the Voluspa, 'From Vidolf come all witches; from Vilmeith all wizards; from Svarthofdi all poison-seethers; and all giants from Ymir.' And the giant Vafthrudnir, when Gangrad asked, 'Whence came Orgelmir the first of the sons of giants?' answered, 'The Elivagar cast out drops of venom that quickened into a giant. From him spring all our race, and hence are we so strong and mighty.'"
"How did the race of Ymir spread itself?" asked Gangler; "or dost thou believe that this giant was a god?"
"We are far from believing him to have been a god," ​replied Har, "for he was wicked as are all of his race, whom we call Frost-giants. And it is said that, when Ymir slept, he fell into a sweat, and from the pit of his left arm was born a man and a woman, and one of his feet engendered with the other a son, from whom descend the Frost-giants, and we therefore call Ymir the old Frost-giant."
# The Elder Edda and the Younger Edda/Younger Edda/Restoration of the Universe

67. "Will any of the gods survive, and will there be any longer a heaven and an earth?" demanded Gangler.
"There will arise out of the sea," replied Har, "another ​earth most lovely and verdant, with pleasant fields where the grain shall grow unsown. Vidar and Vali shall survive; neither the flood nor Surtur's fire shall harm them. They shall dwell on the plain of Ida, where Asgard formerly stood. Thither shall come the sons of Thor, Modi and Magni, bringing with them their father's mallet Mjolnir. Baldur and Hodur shall also repair thither from the abode of death (Hel). There shall they sit and converse together, and call to mind their former knowledge and the perils they underwent, and the fight of the wolf Fenrir and the Midgard serpent. There too shall they find in the grass those golden tablets (orbs) which the Æsir once possessed. As it is said,—
"'There dwell Vidar and Vali In the gods' holy seats, When slaked Surtur's fire is But Modi and Magni Will Mjolnir possess, And strife put an end to.'
"Thou must know, moreover, that during the conflagration caused by Surtur's fire, a woman named Lif (Life), and a man named Lifthrasir, lie concealed in Hodmimir's forest. They shall feed on morning dew, and their descendants shall soon spread over the whole earth.
"But what thou wilt deem more wonderful is, that the sun shall have brought forth a daughter more lovely than herself, who shall go in the same track formerly trodden by her mother.
"And now," continued Thridi, "if thou hast any further questions to ask, I know not who can answer thee, ​for I never heard tell of any one who could relate what will happen in the other ages of the world. Make, therefore, the best use thou canst of what has been imparted to thee."
Upon this Gangler heard a terrible noise all around him: he looked everywhere, but could see neither palace nor city, nor anything save a vast plain. He therefore set out on his return to his own kingdom, where he related all that he had seen and heard, and ever since that time these tidings have been handed down by oral tradition.
68. Ægir, who was well skilled in magic, once went to Asgard, where he met with a very good reception. Supper time being come, the twelve mighty Æsir,—Odin, Thor, Njord, Frey, Tyr, Heimdall, Bragi, Vidar, Vali, Ullur, Hœnir and Forseti, together with the Asynjor,—Frigga, Freyja, Gefjon, Iduna, Gerda, Siguna, Fulla and Nanna, seated themselves on their lofty doom seats, in a hall around which were ranged swords of such surpassing brilliancy that no other light was requisite. They continued long at table, drinking mead of a very superior quality. While they were emptying their capacious drinking horns, Ægir, who sat next to Bragi, requested him to relate something concerning the Æsir. Bragi instantly complied with his request, by informing him of what had happened to Iduna.
# The Domestic Affections, and Other Poems/War Song

WAR-SONG
OF THE SPANISH PATRIOTS.
Ye who burn with glory's flame! Ye who love the Patriot's fame; Ye who scorn oppressive might, Rise! in freedom's cause unite;  Castilians rise! Hark! Iberia calls, ye brave! Haste! your bleeding country save: Be the palm of bright renown, Be th' unfading laurel-crown,  The hero's prize!
High the crimson banner wave! Ours be conquest or the grave! Spirits of our noble sires, Lo! your sons, with kindred fires,  Unconquer'd glow!
See them once again advance, Crush the pride of hostile France; See their hearts, with ardor warm, See them, with triumphant arm,  Repel the foe!
By the Cid's immortal name, By Gonsalvo's deathless fame; By the chiefs of former time, By the valiant deeds sublime,  Of ancient days; Brave Castilians! grasp the spear! Gallant Andalusians, hear! Glory calls you to the plain, Future bards, in lofty strain,  Shall sing your praise!
Shades of mighty warriors dead, Ye who nobly fought and bled;
Ye whose valor could withstand, The savage Moor's invading band  Untaught to yield; Bade victorious Charlemagne, Own the patriot-arms of Spain; Ye, in later times renown'd, Ye who fell with laurels crown'd,  On Pavia's field!
Teach our hearts like yours to burn; Lawless pow'r like you to spurn; Teach us but like you to wield, Freedom's lance and Freedom's shield;  With daring might: Tyrant! soon thy reign is o'er, Thou shalt waste mankind no more; Boast no more thy thousands slain, Jena's, or Marengo's plain; Lo! the sun that gilds thy day, Soon will veil its parting ray,  In endless night!
# The Domestic Affections, and Other Poems/To my younger Brother

TO MY YOUNGER BROTHER,
ON HIS RETURN FROM SPAIN, AFTER THE FATAL RETREAT UNDER SIR JOHN MOORE, AND THE BATTLE OF CORUNNA.
Tho' dark are the prospects and heavy the hours,  Tho' life is a desert, and cheerless the way; Yet still shall affection adorn it with flow'rs,  Whose fragrance shall never decay!
And, lo! to embrace thee, my brother! she flies,  With artless delight, that no words can bespeak; With a sun-beam of transport illuming her eyes,  With a smile and a glow on her cheek!
From the trophies of war, from the spear and the shield,  From scenes of destruction, from perils unblest; Oh! welcome again to the grove and the field,  To the vale of retirement and rest!
Then warble, sweet muse! with the lyre and the voice,  Oh! gay be the measure and sportive the strain; For light is my heart, and my spirits rejoice,  To meet thee, my brother! again.
When the heroes of Albion, still valiant and true,  Were bleeding, were falling, with victory crown'd; How often would fancy present to my view,  The horrors that waited thee round!
How constant, how fervent, how pure was my pray'r,  That Heav'n would protect thee from danger and harm; That angels of mercy would shield thee with care,  In the heat of the combat's alarm!
How sad and how often descended the tear,  (Ah! long shall remembrance the image retain!) How mournful the sigh, when I trembled with fear,  I might never behold thee again!
But the pray'r was accepted, the sorrow is o'er,  And the tear-drop is fled, like the dew on the rose; Thy dangers, our fears, have endear'd thee the more,  And my bosom with tenderness glows!
And, oh! when the dreams, the enchantments of youth,  Bright and transient, have fled, like the rainbow, away; My affection for thee, still unfading in truth,  Shall never, oh! never, decay!
No time can impair it, no change can destroy,  Whate'er be the lot I am destin'd to share; It will smile in the sun-shine of hope and of joy,  And beam thro' the cloud of despair!
# The Domestic Affections, and Other Poems/To the Head-Ache

TO THE HEAD-ACH.
Thou tyrant of the ling'ring hour! Ah, why with me delight to rest? Hence far away, tormenting pow'r!  Unwelcome guest!
With thee, sad visitant! I prove The long, the melancholy day; Ah! foe to peace! from me remove,  Thy dreaded sway.
Oft when I'd court ideal themes, 'Tis then thy leaden wings o'erspread That seat of wild, fantastic dreams,  My weary head.
And when in Fancy's fiery car, With her and with the muse I'd fly; To realms beyond the morning-star,  The earth and sky;
Not long in these illusions blest, Through fairy-palaces I roam; Thy wand recals, unwelcome guest!  My visions home.
Ah, foe to peace! when thou art nigh, Farewell the dew-balm of repose; Then slumber's fled—the languid eye  Forgets to close.
I ne'er my midnight vigils keep, To ponder by the taper's light; Nor waste in downy arms of sleep,  The morning bright.
’Tis mine to rove the hill, the dale, To wander through embow'ring trees; The soul of freshness to inhale,  The mountain-breeze.
Then, tyrant of the ling'ring hour, Ah! why with me delight to rest? Hence far away, tormenting pow'r,  Unwelcome guest!
# The Domestic Affections, and Other Poems/To my eldest Brother with the British Army in Portugal

TO MY ELDEST BROTHER,
WITH THE BRITISH ARMY IN PORTUGAL.
How many a day, in various hues array'd, Bright with gay sun-shine, or eclips'd with shade; How many an hour, on silent wing is past, O my lov'd brother! since we saw thee last! Since then has childhood ripen'd into youth, And Fancy's dreams have fled from sober truth; Her splendid fabricks melting into air, As sage Experience wav'd the wand of care! Yet still thine absence wakes the tender sigh, And the tear trembles in Affection's eye! When shall me meet again? with glowing ray Heart-soothing Hope illumes some future day; Checks the sad thought, beguiles the starting tear, And sings benignly still—that day is near!
She, with bright eye, and soul-bewitching voice, Wins us to smile, inspires us to rejoice; Tells, that the hour approaches, to restore Our cherish'd wanderer to his home once more; Where sacred ties his manly worth endear, To faith still true, affection still sincere! Then the past woes, the future's dubious lot, In that blest meeting shall be all forgot! And Joy's full radiance gild that sun-bright hour, Tho' all around th' impending storm should low'r!
Now distant far, amidst th' intrepid host, Albion's firm sons, on Lusitania's coast; (That gallant band, in countless danger try'd. Where Glory's pole-star beams their constant guide;) Say, do thy thoughts, my brother! fondly stray To Cambria's vales and mountains far away? Does fancy oft in busy day-dreams roam. And paint the greeting that awaits at home?
Does memory's pencil oft, in mellowing hue, Dear social scenes, departed joys renew; In softer tints delighting to retrace, Each tender image and each well-known face? Yes! wanderer, yes! thy spirit flies to those, Whose love unalter'd, warm and faithful glows!
Oh! could that love, thro' life's eventful hours, Illume thy scenes and strew thy path with flow'rs! Perennial joy should harmonize thy breast, No struggle rend thee, and no cares molest! But tho' our tenderness can but bestow, The wish, the hope, the prayer, averting woe; Still shall it live, with pure, unclouded flame, In storms, in sun-shine, far and near—the same! Still dwell enthron'd within th' unvarying heart, And firm, and vital—but with life depart!
Bronwhilfa, 8th Feb. 1811.
# The Complete Works of Swami Vivekananda/Volume 6/Epistles - Second Series/XVII Sir

XVII[6]*
(Translated from Bengali)
GHAZIPUR,
31st Jan., 1890.
DEAR SIR,
It is so very difficult to meet the Babaji. He does not step out of his home; and, when willing to speak at all, he just comes near the door to speak from inside. I have come away with having just a view of his garden-house with chimneys tapering above and encircled by high walls — no means of admittance within! People say there are cave-like rooms within where he dwells; and he only knows what he does there, for nobody has had a peep. I had to come away one day sorely used up with waiting and waiting, but shall take my chance again. On Sunday, I leave for holy Varanasi — only the Babus here won't let me off; otherwise all my fancy to see the Babaji has flattened down. I am prepared to be off today, but anyhow, I am leaving on Sunday. What of your plan of going to Hrishikesh?
Yours etc.,
VIVEKANANDA.
PS. The redeeming feature is that the place seems healthy.