奥义书 · Gaṇapati 9.1
॥
天城文
एकदन्तं चतुर्हस्तं पाशमङ्कुशधारिणम् । रदं च वरदं हस्तैर्बिभ्राणं मूषकध्वजम्
转写 (IAST)
ekadantaṃ caturhastaṃ pāśamaṅkuśadhāriṇam | radaṃ ca varadaṃ hastairbibhrāṇaṃ mūṣakadhvajam
逐字释义
梵语IAST释义
एक-दन्तं चतुर्-हस्तंeka-dantaṃ catur-hastaṃthe one-tusked, four-armed
पाशम् अङ्कुश-धारिणम्pāśam aṅkuśa-dhāriṇamholding the noose and the goad
रदं च वरदंradaṃ ca varadaṃthe tusk and the boon-bestowing [hand]
हस्तैः बिभ्राणम्hastaiḥ bibhrāṇambearing in his hands
मूषक-ध्वजम्mūṣaka-dhvajamhaving the mouse as his banner
译文
The one-tusked, four-armed, holding the noose and the goad, bearing in his hands the tusk and the boon-bestowing [hand], having the mouse as his banner.
版本
6e57ad610d02 · 发布于 2026年8月12日 05:00:00 UTC
可用语言RUEN用方向键翻颂
The dhyāna, "contemplation," begins — a description of the form to be held before the inner eye; and this, note, is the third mode of speech in one book, after abstract definitions and grammatical analysis. The four hands bear: pāśa (a noose, a lasso), aṅkuśa (a goad, with which an elephant is directed), rada (a broken-off tusk), and varada (not an object but a gesture: an open palm turned downward, the sign of granting). Let us examine them, for these objects are not mere decoration.
The noose draws in: with it one catches and pulls toward oneself. The goad directs: with it the driver turns the elephant, and it causes pain but does not maim. Together they mean what in life is called circumstance: one thing pulls, another pushes, and both are unpleasant.
The tusk is broken off — by tradition, Gaṇeśa broke it off himself in order to write down the Mahābhārata when his pen broke. That is, in his hand is not a weapon but that which he sacrificed for the work. The fourth hand is empty and open. Note the order: three are occupied, the fourth gives.
The mouse underfoot is the most unexpected feature in this form — huge beside tiny. There are many interpretations of this, and the most reliable of them sees here a simple correspondence: the elephant and the mouse are the largest and the smallest things known to a village person, and to hold them together is to show that neither one nor the other is small or great in itself. The Vaiṣṇava side treats such descriptions with full seriousness and interprets its own just as closely: the conch, the disc, the mace, and the lotus in Viṣṇu's four hands are analyzed in its books for the meaning of each. What is common to both sides here is one thing, worth naming: the form is read, not merely contemplated; and every detail in it is a word.