Poetry Chaikhana Blog

My friend, I cannot answer when you ask me to explain
by Vidyapati

English version by Edward C. Dimock, Jr. and Denise Levertov

My friend, I cannot answer when you ask me to explain
what has befallen me.
Love is transformed, renewed,
each moment.
He has dwelt in my eyes all the days of my life,
yet I am not sated with seeing.
My ears have heard his sweet voice in eternity,
and yet it is always new to them.
How many honeyed nights have I passed with him
in love’s bliss, yet my body
wonders at his.
Through all the ages
he has been clasped to my breast,
yet my desire
never abates.
I have seen subtle people sunk in passion
but none came so close to the heart of the fire.

Who shall be found to cool your heart,
says Vidyapati.

— from In Praise of Krishna: Songs from the Bengali, Translated by Edward C. Dimock, Jr. / Translated by Denise Levertov

/ Image by Boris SV /

The speaker in this poem is Radha and the “him” she refers to is Krishna. Bhakti poetry often celebrates the love affair between Radha and Krishna, but it plays with multiple levels of reality at once: it can be read as erotic love poetry and, at the same time, as an exploration of the love between the soul (Radha) and God (Krishna).

Try reading this poem a few times. Start with the poem’s surface meaning, its beauty, sensuality, and yearning. And, with each reading, look progressively deeper and with an open heart. See what emerges.

Love is transformed, renewed,
each moment.

When we are in a truly open state, deeply at rest with what is, we are flooded with the most profound sense of love and bliss. As a concept, considered from outside the conscious experience, this might sound rather uninteresting.

Love is nice, and when it is strong it can feel wonderful, but even at its best, do we really want to feel it as an unending experience? Of course, in these thoughts the mind is imagining objectified love — love for a person, love for a thing or an experience — which floods us with endorphins but is also too often followed by an emotional crash. It can be the sugar rush version of love. Extreme swings are normal with that sort of love. As we mature in our relationships and our desires, the extremes level out and our connections become more steady and, hopefully, more fulfilling. But we have still externalized our ideas of love, limited it, and often used it to reinforce the ego sense of identity.

Then, just maybe we come to a point of stillness and openness, and that limited experience of love blossoms in a way we never imagined possible. It is just there, utterly and undeniably. Love. Not hooked outwardly upon a person or an experience, not tethered internally to feelings of reward or reinforcement of the ego-self. There is just the deep well of love bubbling up and flowing out in all directions.

Not only is the joy of this love indescribable (“I cannot answer when you ask me to explain”), it is somehow alive and continuously shifting its color and tone, always new, always a fresh experience from moment to moment. Love is transformed, renewed, each moment.

This is the awareness Vidyapati seems to be exploring in these lines, the delight and surprise of the continual newness of the experience, how it fulfills without sating, how experiencing it we recognize it as our natural state and seek to continuously center ourselves within it.

Through all the ages
he has been clasped to my breast,
yet my desire
never abates.

==

…Now I have to put my shoes on and go outside to plant some acorn squash. I hope to see their vines happily meandering around the edges of my garden later this summer.

Recommended Books: Vidyapati

In Praise of Krishna: Songs from the Bengali

Vidyapati India (1340? – 1430) Timeline Yoga / Hindu : Vaishnava (Krishna/Rama)

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In two, there is only One.
In “you” and “I,” there are not two, but One.
In delusion, only One; in recollection, only One.
What work remains but to know?

Dust as we are, the immortal spirit grows (from The Prelude, Book 1)
by William Wordsworth

Dust as we are, the immortal spirit grows
Like harmony in music; there is a dark
Inscrutable workmanship that reconciles
Discordant elements, makes them cling together
In one society. How strange, that all
The terrors, pains, and early miseries,
Regrets, vexations, lassitudes interfused
Within my mind, should e’er have borne a part,
And that a needful part, in making up
The calm existence that is mine when I
Am worthy of myself! Praise to the end!

— from Poetry for the Spirit: Poems of Universal Wisdom and Beauty, Edited by Alan Jacobs

/ Image by Viewminder /

It has been a while since I have turned to Wordsworth, but reading these lines I have to wonder why I have stayed away so long.

Dust as we are, the immortal spirit grows
Like harmony in music

Even that beginning line is worth rereading a few times. Here Wordsworth distills everything into this one elegant image of the transitory human being that is somehow, miraculously home to the immortal spirit. And that immortal spirit emerges within us, or, rather, we slowly become more aware of it throughout life as if it is an underlying harmony within music. When focused on the individual notes, as we focus on the details and specific events of life when we are younger, it can seem chaotic and fugue-like, but when we relax and allow our awareness to take it all in, we begin to recognize the underlying musical beauty:

there is a dark
Inscrutable workmanship that reconciles
Discordant elements, makes them cling together
In one society.

Then the poet shares the revelation that comes to him:

How strange, that all
The terrors, pains, and early miseries,
Regrets, vexations, lassitudes interfused
Within my mind, should e’er have borne a part,
And that a needful part, in making up
The calm existence that is mine when I
Am worthy of myself!

Let’s unpack that statement because it is so rich, we don’t want to miss its beauty. He has that wonderful phrase, “when I am worthy of myself.” That is, when our identity rests in the vastness of the immortal spirit we all are, that is when the whole symphony, the entire tapestry of life reveals itself to us. The amazing thing is that is not just the lovely, delightful experiences that have a place in that blissful wholeness; the terrors and struggles have played a part too, and an essential part. How can such beauty and fulfillment emerge from such a complex patchwork of life experiences that includes suffering? Somehow it does. The bliss of that grand vision, when witnessed from the fullness of the full Self — it embraces it all, integrating everything, recognizing an all-encompassing harmony. The ego-mind that desires only pleasant, self-aggrandizing experiences rebels at this possibility, but the true self witnesses it all with a smile that heals even the cruelest wounds as it rests amidst unassailable calm. To some this may sound like one more spiritual platitude amidst life’s difficulties, but this is the actual experience when we settle into the Self we all inherently are.

Religious belief has nothing to do with this holistic vision of life. Even the impious find themselves stammering–

“Praise to the end!”

Be well, look out for one another, and discover the hidden wonders of the day.

=

PS- During the recent Covid stay at home period, we have been doing some gardening. This morning my wife said something that I thought was worth sharing: The good thing about gardening is that there is no social distancing with plants.

Recommended Books: William Wordsworth

The Longing in Between: Sacred Poetry from Around the World (A Poetry Chaikhana Anthology)	Poetry for the Spirit: Poems of Universal Wisdom and Beauty	The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse	Complete Poetical Works	William Wordsworth: Selected Poems
More Books >>

William Wordsworth England (1770 – 1850) Timeline Secular or Eclectic

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We don’t float to heaven.
Like a tree, we sink roots deep into the rocky soil,
and so, year-by-year, reach higher into the heavens.

Cutting Loose
by William Stafford

Sometimes from sorrow, for no reason,
you sing. For no reason, you accept
the way of being lost, cutting loose
from all else and electing a world
where you go where you want to.

Certain twisted monsters
always bar the path — but that’s when
you get going best, glad to be lost,
learning how real it is
here on earth, again and again.

— from Ten Poems for Difficult Times, Edited by Roger Housden

/ Image by Vic /

This poem was featured earlier this week in Roger Housden’s poetry email and I found myself rereading it and spending time with it in a way that told me this is one worth sharing.

Sometimes from sorrow, for no reason,
you sing.

This opening line really hooked me. The word “sorrow” here evokes for me the sense of someone who is privately wrestling with depression. I think I remember reading that the poet, William Stafford, dealt with depression in his life. I myself went through a particularly difficult bout of depression as a younger man, and several beloved friends and family members have gone through their own experiences of depression. So I read this entire poem through that lens.

This is what rings true for me in that first line– sometimes the most unexpected joy and exuberance can emerge from those dark states.

Depression is not what most people imagine it to be. It is not actually about feeling sad. Depression, in my observation, is not an emotion at all. It is more of an energetic state, an overload of the nervous system and the outward-focused attention. It becomes a forced state of interiority and disconnection from the busy external world. But depression, when understood and well-integrated, can become a rich, dark reservoir of creativity, self-awareness, and surprising fulfillment.

When intense, depression can be frightening and bleak, but when we let go of the constant need for “up” energies, cultivate stability, and learn to drink in the small, quiet joys, we discover a richer, deeper sense of self.

I will take it a step further and perhaps even upset a few people by saying that a certain amount of depression is a healthy and necessary thing. Of course, depression can get extreme for some people and, when it is not understood or well-handled, it can be devastating. But I genuinely believe that a certain amount of depression is a normal response for a healthy person in a world that is often out of harmony. In other words, depression, in its moderate forms, is not an emotion or even an illness, it is a response. The great challenge is to not deny that natural depression and, instead, to integrate it, channel it, use it well and finally emerge from that shadowed space as a more whole, clear-seeing, and compassionate individual who can exist in the world without being unbalanced by it.

I say all of this because I think a lot of people are experiencing their own private depressions right now and feeling more isolated because of it. It is important to remember that no one is alone in that experience and, as difficult as the state may feel, it can be utilized as a tool for self-awareness and personal growth. It is within these dark spaces that transformation occurs. Where it feels like only shadows and sorrow exist, a new clarity emerges, a new voice rises full of life — and you find yourself singing.

Arbitrary, a sound comes, a reminder
that a steady center is holding
all else.

Have a beautiful day full of new inspiration and unexpected joy!

Be well.

Recommended Books: William Stafford

The Way It Is: New & Selected Poems	My Name is William Tell	Even in Quiet Places	The Poetry of Impermanence, Mindfulness, and Joy	Dancing with Joy: 99 Poems
More Books >>

William Stafford US (1914 – 1993) Timeline Secular or Eclectic

More poetry by William Stafford

The world is pregnant with miracles.
All it takes is for us to approach with quiet and awe,
and the most mundane things open themselves
into infinities.