गन्धर्व उवाच
ततो दृष्ट्वाश्रमपदं रहितं तैः सुतैर् मुनिः ॥
निर्जगाम सुदुःखार्तः पुनर् एवाश्रमात् ततः ॥
सो ऽपश्यत् सरितं पूर्णां प्रावृट्काले नवाम्भसा ॥
वृक्षान् बहुविधान् पार्थ वहन्तीं तीरजान् बहून् ॥
अथ चिन्तां समापेदे पुनः पौरवनन्दन ॥
अम्भस्य् अस्या निमज्जेयम् इति दुःखसमन्वितः ॥
gandharva uvāca
tato dṛṣṭvāśramapadaṃ rahitaṃ taiḥ sutair muniḥ ||
nirjagāma suduḥkhārtaḥ punar evāśramāt tataḥ ||
so 'paśyat saritaṃ pūrṇāṃ prāvṛṭkāle navāmbhasā ||
vṛkṣān bahuvidhān pārtha vahantīṃ tīrajān bahūn ||
atha cintāṃ samāpede punaḥ pauravanandana ||
ambhasy asyā nimajjeyam iti duḥkhasamanvitaḥ ||
The Gandharva said: "Then, having seen the hermitage bereft of those sons, the muni, heavily stricken with grief, went out from it again. He saw a river full of fresh water in the rainy season, bearing many trees along its banks, O Partha; and he fell into this thought: 'I shall plunge into her water,' overcome with grief."
3dbec09bdffb · publicado 12 jul 2026, 17:29:43 UTC
Disponible enRUENPasa de verso en verso con
Here the emptied home again drives the saint toward the thought of death. It is telling that the sight of the hermitage without his sons is unbearable to him: the memory of loss, held within its very walls, reopens the wound. Here it is shown how deeply even the great grieve, so long as they are not consoled by what is higher: sorrow holds sway even over the saint while he still bears it. Thus the scripture reveals grief's unending search for an end in death; and the swollen river appears to the stricken man as an instrument of that end.