Sleep not that sleep, you fool, which will destroy all your capital.
68. O God, where did I get to, where am I?
I was telling you one thing, but said another instead.
I was about to tell the story of the Prince,
but sleep intervened and carried me away.
I return now to the story, so listen to how
the Prince was overwhelmed by sweet sleep,*
and how some nymphs chanced to gather round
the Prince’s bed as he lay there sleeping.
The nymphs were amazed to see in him
the precious, beautiful form of a celestial.
‘We are heavenly nymphs, and he is a man, so he is no concern of ours,
but let us marry him to the loveliest bride between the east and the west.’
69. ‘From east to west, to the world’s edges,
what place is there that we have not seen?
We know the whole world well.
We must find a match worthy of this Prince.’
One praised Saurāra and Gujarāt,
while another told of the Isle of Singhala.*
They went through all three worlds,
but could not find a beauty to match him.
Then one nymph stood up and said:
‘There is a maiden worthy of this Prince.
Vikram Rāi, the valiant king of the city of Mahāras,* has a virgin daughter
named Madhumālatī, ‘night-flowering jasmine’, whose beauty eclipses the sun and moon.’
70. When they heard her, the nymphs were delighted,
but one said the Prince was more beautiful than she.
Thinking it over together, they announced
that the Prince and Princess should be compared.
One nymph said: ‘Let’s take the Prince there.’
Another said: ‘Let’s bring the Princess here.’
A third pointed out that these comings and goings
would take up the entire night.
So, they cast the Prince into a charmed sleep,
and lifted his bed up into the air.
They took him to her as she lay happily asleep, the light of the triple world.
His bed they placed next to hers, to see side by side their beautiful bodies.
71. Words cannot describe the sight before them:
shamed, the sun hid in the daytime,
and the moon hid herself by night.
In the face of such astonishing beauty
the nymphs were struck dumb, overcome by shame.
Looking at the one, they saw such loveliness!
But when they glanced at the other,
they found beauty beyond compare.
Both were perfect and complete in beauty.
Neither was less lovely than the other.
The Prince was fair without blemish,
while the face of that most alluring maiden
displayed all sixteen attributes of beauty.
The more the nymphs looked at them, the lovelier they appeared.
God had made them perfectly, matchless in the triple world.
72. The nymphs then declared that both
were perfect in beauty,* and neither
was more excellent than the other.
‘If God should let them come together,
the three worlds would echo with celebration.
To look upon them is to taste the joy
of yogis in the state of mystical union.*
Lord, life of the three worlds,
please grant that they come together in love.
We have searched creation’s three worlds,
and nowhere is the equal of these two.
He is the sun and she the moon. She is the sun and he the moon.*
If love were born between them, the last trump would sound through the triple world.*
73. ‘God Himself incarnated these two*
as darlings and true lovers in this world.
Since we have come at foot’s pace to this city,
let’s go and play in the marvellous mango-grove,
and visit the garden of a thousand trees
while these two remain here fast asleep.’
At this the nymphs set off for the garden.
The Prince awoke and stretched lazily.
He saw a bed placed beside his own
on which a beautiful princess lay.
The sun was not more brilliant, nor the moon her match in beauty.
Perfect in beauty’s sixteen qualities, youth herself slept, head resting on her arm.
The Prince’s Vision
74. In the palace, silken drapes were hung all around,
between golden pillars studded with gems.
The chamber was like the heavens:
the maiden’s face shone like the moon,
and the precious stones were stars.
Her band of handmaidens were the Pleiades,*
her couch a heavenly swinging cradle.
She slept naturally and peacefully,
as if her form were moulded to the bed.
To describe her bed is beyond my powers,
so I must continue this juicy tale of pleasure.
The maiden was adorned in all the sixteen ways, and lay in sweet and tranquil sleep.
When the Prince saw her, his senses fled, and the light of his intelligence left him.
75. When the Prince looked again at her,
lying asleep so naturally, peacefully,
he awoke and returned to consciousness.
Astonished, he looked all around in amazement:
‘O Lord, whose city is this? Whose this palace?
Who is this that sleeps here so tranquilly?
Blessed is the man for whom the Creator
cast this maiden in bodily form.’
The moment that he saw Madhumālatī
she possessed his heart completely.
His soul bowed down to her beauty.
Seeing her lying in sweet sleep,
the fire of love engulfed his body,
consuming him utterly, from top to toe.
Like a lotus opening towards the sun, he blossomed as he saw her face.
Primeval love, like a new green shoot, sprouted in the Prince’s heart.
76. As he beheld the loveliness of her form,
he fainted away every second,
only to collect himself the next.
He was astonished to see such beauty:
‘O God, who is she? Where am I?
Such a beautiful form, and so adorned!
A glimpse of this maiden’s face,
would confound the greatest sages.
How can I describe her form and features?
She has entered my heart in a thousand ways.
Her beauty has thrown my soul into confusion.
My life flies from me like a restless leaf from a tree.’
As the Prince observed her lovely form and adornments, he found fulfilment,
yet his thirsty eyes could not leave the contemplation of her beauty.
Madhumālatī Described
Her Parting
77. Let me first tell of the parting in her hair,
difficult of ascent as the path to heaven.
As he looked at her parting and her flowing locks
he kept straying from the path and returning to it.
Strikingly lovely was the parting on her head,
like the keen edge of a sword stained with blood.
Who could traverse the path of that parting?
At every step, ringlets and curls set snares for the traveller.
All who passed were killed outright,
and therefore the path appears red with blood.
Of all who saw the parting of this blessed girl, so like a sword’s keen edge,
who is left to describe it, since she cleaves all who look on in two?
78. A ray of sunlight was her beautiful parting.
When it had won
all the world, it moved heavenwards.
It was not a parting, but the market-place of heaven,
the path of the sun’s and moon’s rising and setting.
Where did this stream of nectar flow from,
the source for her moon-face’s inexhaustible radiance?
The Prince lost his soul when he saw her lovely parting,
he was drawn to it like moths to the lamp-flame.
Did not the Creator himself place it on her head?
To what then shall I compare it?
In the dark night it shone like lightning against the blackest clouds,
as if fallen from the sky and come to rest on the maiden’s head.
Her Hair
79. Her scattered locks were poisonous serpents gliding
easily over the pillows in excitement,
gem-bearing snakes,* moving so quickly,
viciously, full of deadly venom.
Just as the night grew radiant
when she revealed her face,
the day darkened as she let down her locks.
They were not tresses but the sorrows of lovers
become the adornments of her head.
Whoever in this world saw her locks,
lost all awareness of his own condition.
When this blessed virgin let loose her hair, the world was shrouded in darkness,
the God of Love spread out his net to snare the souls of grieving lovers.
80. Did you know why the world
was filled with such sweet fragrance?
Did the musk deer open its pod?
Or did Madhumālatī let loose her hair?
Did you know why the breeze from the south
blew in the world with the scent of sandal?*
One day this lovely girl set free her hair,
and all the wind gods came to dance attendance.
From that day the southern breeze
has wandered sadly, longing for her,
yet even today his hope is unfulfilled.
Ever since he blew around Madhumalātī’s fragrant dark locks,
the southern breeze remains constantly sad, grieving day and night.
Her Forehead
81. Her forehead was spotless as the moon
on the second night of a month,
shining through nine regions and three worlds.
Beads of perspiration shone brilliantly on her face,
as if the Pleiades had engulfed the moon.
A black spot of musk adorned her brow,
as if the moon had fallen into the demon Rāhu’s power.*
So beautiful was her alluring brow,
the moon in shame retreated to the heavens.
Brilliant in a thousand aspects, her brow
shone splendidly, radiantly, above the world.
Her moon-face below, her dark locks above: what an image of passion!
Night locked in embrace with the moon, with the night surmounting.
Her Eyebrows
82. Love happily took in his hands his bow.*
Using his strength, he broke it into two halves.
Without any alchemy, he put them point to point,
arranging them as Madhumālatī’s eyebrows.
How beautifully her eyebrows graced her face,
as if Love’s bow had been embodied on earth.
Had this enchanting maiden arched her brows,
Indra would have unstrung his rainbow in shame.
Love conquered the triple world with his bow;
then he brought it as a gift to Madhumālatī.
Vanquishing the triple world, the bow came to rest when no warrior remained.
Who could have won against a glance which pierced the heart right through?
Her Eyes
83. Her intoxicating eyes, black, white and red,
pierced the heart when her glances struck.
Large lively eyes, keen, crookedly seductive,
with eyelids covering them like wagtail’s wings.*
Her eyes were hunters who took countless lives,
then lay at rest, their bows beneath their heads.
They were like fish playing face to face,*
or two wagtails fighting on the wing.
Her eyes were murderous, thirsty for life,
yet on seeing them one wished to die.
They were a wondrous paradox that could not be resolved:
her eyes were does that lay fearlessly, each one beneath a hunter’s bow.
Her Eyelashes
84. Her eyelashes were arrows steeped in poison.
When a glance struck, venom overcame the heart.
The man who confronted the arrows of her lashes,
reduced the pores of his body to a sieve.
When her glance and lashes pierced a heart,
it turned both blood and heart to water.
When another’s glance met hers,
two knives were sharpened blade on blade.
Who could win against the arrows of her lashes?
With every glance, she let off a hundred shafts.
Pierced by her charming glances, who could protect his life any more?
Seeing the lashes of this blessed girl, who could wish for anything but to die?
Her Nose
85. The beauty of her nose defies description.
I searched the three worlds, did not find its likeness.
A parrot’s beak, a sword’s keen edge,
a sesamum flower: these do not describe it.
Nor could it be Udayācala,* the eastern hill.
Her nose is the channel for the sun and moon.*
No one could approach her nose in loveliness.
Sweet scents sustained it day and night.
To what shall I compare her nose
which the sun and moon themselves fanned with air?
With what qualities shall I describe this blessed maiden’s nose?
Day and night it was fanned with cool air by sun and moon alike.
Her Cheeks
86. Two cheeks adorned her lovely face,
rich in colour, full of rare delight.
I am bereft of reason, words fail me.
How can I describe her cheeks?
Who could practise austerities harsh enough
to enjoy such priceless treasures?
Her beautiful cheeks were fashioned by God.
What simile could describe their loveliness?
What can we poor humans accomplish?
Even the gods bow down before her cheeks.
Gods, men, sages, and celestial of musicians—all lose their reason before her cheeks.
On seeing their loveliness, even Lord Śiva’s* concentration strays.
Her Lips
87. Her lovely lips dripped with nectar.
Inflamed by love, they thirsted for blood.
They were tender, juicy, red in colour,
bimba* fruits placed against the moon.
No, no, this simile does not suffice:
God squeezed the moon’s nectar to form them.
Her lips, full of nectar, were yet untasted.
When the Prince saw them, he felt
his life drain away, and cried aloud:
‘When will the Lord grant my life be restored?’
Her lips, flame-coloured, were known as a sea of nectar by the world.
Seeing nectar and flame together, marvellous, set fire to one’s life breath.
Her Teeth
88. Her brilliant teeth defied description,
their shining dazzled the glance.
When she smiled slightly in sleep,
lightning flashed from the heavens.
When her lips parted, her teeth shone:
the sages of the triple world were blinded
and lost all recollection of themselves.
Mars, Venus, Jupiter, and Saturn
were stunned by the radiance of her teeth.
They all disappeared, who knows where,
If someone describes this as God’s self-disclosure, then understand the nature of God:
the Lord is hidden in this world, and no one has ever seen Him.
Her Mole
89. The lovely mole upon her face
could not be described by any simile.
The Prince’s eyes were enamoured of its beauty.
They became transfixed, and would not leave it.
‘It is not a mole, but the reflection of my eye,
in which her face appears ever more lovely.
Her face is a clear, unblemished mirror,
in it my eye’s shadow appears as a beauty-spot.
The pupil of my eye is soft and dark.
On her pure and spotless face it has fallen as a mole.’
The maiden’s lovely face was a stainless, shining mirror
in which the reflection of the Prince’s eye appeared as a mole.
Her Tongue
90. Sweet as nectar was the tongue
within the maiden’s mouth.
It spoke in tones of pleasure and delight.
Even the dead would savour with joy
her words as sweet as nectar.
Whoever heard her priceless gems of words,
themselves spoke sweetly in the world.
Who has performed such severe austerities
to be able to touch his tongue with hers?
Her sweet tongue, so rich in all delight,
moved languidly within the maiden’s mouth,
as if it had passed between two hostile foes,
and reached the abode of pleasure.
Sweet as nectar, full of pleasure and delight, was the tongue within her alluring mouth.
Within her moon-like radiant face, her tongue was an intoxicating spring of nectar.
Her Ears
91. Her lovely ears were shells of limpid pearl,
the heavenly planets were her earring studs.
Her pendants were encrusted with diamonds and gems.
On one ear she had hung the sun,
on the other, the sphere of Jupiter.
With two luminous orbs on either side,
her face rose like the moon between two stars.
What man did God make fortunate enough
to hold the attention of those ears, to speak to her?
The demon planet Rāhu had been split in two,
and placed as ears to protect her moon-face.
Her orb-like pendants shone luminously, radiant with Viu’s* light.
If Rāliu had not been afraid of them, he would surely have devoured this moon.*
Her Neck
92. What simile best describes her neck?
It was surely turned on the All-Maker’s wheel.
Who bears the mark of high destiny,
to sacrifice his life on the saw at Prayāg?*
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