Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1880-07-03
mEDIrArIons OF A HINDoo FRINGE.
A Correct Translation Of a Remarkable
Poem

A Correct Translation Of a Remarkable
Poem.
All the world over, wonder, in lands that never
have trod,
Are tue people externally seeking for the signs and
The steps OF God2
Westward across the occap, and northward beyond
the snow,
wisest know?
Here in the mystical Ind a, the deities hover ard
swarm
Like the wild bees heard in the tree-tops, or the
gusts Of gathering storm
In the air hear their voices, their feet on the
rocks are seen,
may the wonders meanr'
million sbrines stand open, and ever the censor
swings
As they bow to mystic symbol or the figures OF an
cient kings;
And the incense rises ever, and rises the endless
OF those who are heavy laden, and of towards 10th
to die.
For the Destiny drives us together, ike deer in
pass OF the Hills
Above the sky ami around US the sound and the
shot that kills
Pushed by Power We see not, and struch by hand
unknown,
We pray to the trees for shelter and press our lips
TO stone.
The trees wave a shad5wy answer, and the rock
frowns hollow and grim,
And the rm aud the nod OF the demon are caught
in the twilight dim
Asd Wa look TO the sunlight falling afar on the
mountain crest,
Is there never path runs upward to refuge there
and rest?
The path an who has shown it, and which is the
faithful guide
The haven, all who has known it for steep in the
NnT q1 n q
For ever the shot strikes surely, and ever the
wasted breath
OF the praying multitude rises, whose answer is
only death.
Here are the tombs of my kinsfolks, the first OF an
ancient name,
Chiefs who were slain on the warheld, and women
who died in the flame
They are GODS these kings of the foretme they are
spirits who guard our race,
Ever watch and worship they sit with q marble
face.
And the myriad idols around me, and the legion of
mutteriDg priests
The reves aud the riots unholy, the dark unspea6-
able feasts
What have they wr1ng from the silence Hath
even whisper come
OF the secret--Whence and whither7 Alas, fof the
gods are dumb.
Shall listen to the word of the English, who come
from the uttermost seat
" The secret, hath it been told you, and what IS
your message to me I?
1t is augh. but the underworld story, how The
earth and the heavens began,
How the gods are glad and angry, and the Deity
once man.
| had thought, Perchance in the cities where the
rulers OF India dwell,
Whose orders fash from the far land who sirde the
earth with SPELL
They have fathomed the depths we hoat on, or
measured the unknown MAN,.
Sadly they turn from the venture, and say that the
quest is vain.
Is life, them dream and d.luson, and where shall
the dreamer awake?
Is the world seen Ike shadows on water, and what
IL tho mirror break
Shall il pass as a camp that is struck, as q camp
that is gathered and gone
From the sands that were lamplit ct eve and at
morning are level and lonet
Is there naught in the heaven above, whence the
hail and the even arc hurled,
But the wind that is swept around us by the rush OF
the rolling world
The wind that shall scatter my ashes, and bear me
tn silence and sleep,
With the dirge, and sounds OF lamenting and
voices of women who weepG
IA. C. Lyall.