Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Cupid, New or Old?

Like a wil-o'-the-wisp, love came to me
and I tried to hold it. But it turned to mist;
the sylph turned into uncertainty,
like any creature of the mind, a myst.

But such it was that a shadow
hidden somewhere behind my mind,
took on form within the lingering
swirl of fragrant grayness:

It was the God called Love, the mystical Cupid,
who mocks his infinite mirror images
each reflecting but fragments of his splendor,
yet dazzling and dazing the wisest sages.

Now my mind has become an ascetic,
he has turned around to look behind him.
He has given up religion and irreligion.
He has taken the senses with him, his disciples.
He has pierced his ear and placed there a wooden peg,
and now, in selfish and forlorn neglect of the world
he wanders, lost in the desert of separation,
looking for that mirage, his grail, the Divine Cupid,

He has forgotten
the paltry suffering of the Kali Yuga,
for no one suffers like he does now.
How can he give succor?

He cannot hear the cries of communities,
of women and children calling for constancy and continuity?
What howling disorder has he left behind?
Is that what his renunciation does? Is that what love has done?
Is there no compassion for those whose futile search
for love in this world is the source of all misery?

This cannot be! Don't call this Cupid God!
It is against the law of God
to shake the foundations of the world,
to shatter man's dedication to duty,
so he forgets the world and its suffering creatures
so in need of stable steady loving guides!

Was Majnun not fair warning to us all?
What suffering jivas could he save, that madman?
If one love makes us mad,
what will the Whole of Love do?

Is the metaphor of wine not a warning to us fools,
to anticipate the inevitable
delirium tremens to come?

Did you really think that the gopis' suffering
was something other than real suffering,
and their story just a fairy tale?

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