अथ मासि मास्यमावास्यायां पश्चाच्चन्द्रमसं दृश्यमानमुपतिष्ठेतैतयैवावृता हरिततृणाभ्यां वाक्प्रत्यस्यति यत्ते सुसीमं हृदयमधि चन्द्रमसि श्रितं तेनामृतत्वस्येशानं माहं पौत्रमघं रुदमिति न हास्मात्पूर्वाः प्रजाः प्रयन्तीति नु जातपुत्रस्याथाजातपुत्रस्याप्यायस्व समेतु ते सन्ते पयांसि समुयन्तु वाजा यमादित्या अंशुमाप्याययन्तीत्येतास्तिस्र ऋचो जपित्वा मास्माकं प्राणेन प्रजया पशुभिराप्याययिष्ठा योऽस्मान्द्वेष्टि यं च वयं द्विष्मस्तस्य प्राणेन प्रजया पशुभिराप्यायस्वेति दैवीमावृतमावर्त आदित्यस्यावृतमन्वावर्तयति दक्षिणं बाहुमन्वावर्तते
atha māsi māsyamāvāsyāyāṃ paścāccandramasaṃ dṛśyamānamupatiṣṭhetaitayaivāvṛtā haritatṛṇābhyāṃ vākpratyasyati yatte susīmaṃ hṛdayamadhi candramasi śritaṃ tenāmṛtatvasyeśānaṃ māhaṃ pautramaghaṃ rudamiti na hāsmātpūrvāḥ prajāḥ prayantīti nu jātaputrasyāthājātaputrasyāpyāyasva sametu te sante payāṃsi samuyantu vājā yamādityā aṃśumāpyāyayantītyetāstisra ṛco japitvā māsmākaṃ prāṇena prajayā paśubhirāpyāyayiṣṭhā yo'smāndveṣṭi yaṃ ca vayaṃ dviṣmastasya prāṇena prajayā paśubhirāpyāyasveti daivīmāvṛtamāvarta ādityasyāvṛtamanvāvartayati dakṣiṇaṃ bāhumanvāvartate
Then, month by month at the new moon, let him worship by the same procedure the moon appearing in the west — or with two green blades of grass he casts his word to it: “That fair heart of thine that rests in the moon — by it, O lord of immortality, may I never weep woe for my children.” And his children do not depart before him. This is for one who has a son. And for one who has no son: “Swell up! May the milk-streams come together to thee, may the powers come together — thou whose ray the Ādityas make swell.” Having muttered these three verses: “Not with our breath, progeny and cattle swell; but with the breath, progeny and cattle of him who hates us and whom we hate — with those swell.” And he turns with the divine turning, following the turning of the sun, turning by the right arm.
da110aa39ed3 · publicado 29 jul 2026, 3:43:45 UTC
Disponible enRUENPasa de verso en verso con
The new-moon rite, and it is addressed to that same moon of which the first adhyāya said: all who depart go to the moon. Hence the petition.
The father's plea is transparent: “may I never weep woe for my children”. Most dreadful of all for a householder is to outlive his own children; and precisely this is promised — “his children do not depart before him”. The rite does not promise immortality; it asks for the right order of departure.
Curious is the phrase “that fair heart of thine that rests in the moon”. One addresses not the visible disc but what is sheltered within it; and this is the same move as everywhere in the book — behind the visible to seek the one who abides.
The rite's second half is for the childless, and the verses here are Vedic, on the waxing of the moon: “swell up, may the juices and powers gather to thee”. The moon growing after the new moon is the image of replenishment; the childless man asks the same for himself.
And then comes what stops the modern reader: “not with our breath and herd swell, but with those of him who hates us”. These words should be neither smoothed over nor passed off as something else. This is a Vedic formula known to other texts as well: the petitioner diverts the loss from his own house to the house of an enemy.
One should see, however, what the Upaniṣad itself does with such formulas. In the following chapters it will say that all beings are held by one prāṇa, and in the third adhyāya Indra will declare that no deed diminishes the one who has known him. The Vedic enmity remains in the text as the more ancient layer; the teaching for which the book was written grows above it and in the end outgrows it.
All closes, as before, with the sunwise turn — the usual movement by which a rite is sealed in the Veda.