The Treasury of Well-Turned Verse

The poetry in this collection was compiled by Vidyakara while he studied at the Buddhist monastery in Jagaddala (ca. 1100 CE). The poems are mostly court lyrics, meant to impart a certain mood, rather than mimic real scenes in life. The poems are extremely formal in structure, but their subjects vary from the Hindu gods, to jealousy, to the seasonal fauna.

The Rains (Anonymous)

The peacock calls gently to his mate who tarries,
and glances once again toward the sky;
then, leaping from his stagem the earth,
making a parasol of his unfolded tail,
to the sound of thunder sweet as loud reverberations of a drum
he performs his joyful dance.

The language used here evokes beauty and the happiness found in freely fulfilling one's dharma. Here the peacock meets his duties joyfully; this brings him closer to the rightness found in nature.

Early Winter (Anonymous)

Now are the days when the winter wind sets forth,
friendly days to the jasmine
but death to the beauty of the lotus ponds.
Now women, suffering from the cold,
although their lovers' faults be deep,
welcome by feigning sleep a tight embrace.

This poem captures the despondent complacency of early winter, with the sadness of days growning colder, and quietly celebrates the forced dependence on other humans. The last lines reveal that human pride can be easily overcome by the necessity for human warmth--a necessity which springs from love. This poem, though reflecting on "death to the beauty of lotus ponds," is still hopeful; it reveals that there is something deeper than beauty or hurt that binds people together, and keeps them from suffering alone in the winter's cold.

Spring (Samghasri)

The lotus pond is bristling with pink buds;
the nights grow shorter while the empyrean's gem,
its cloak of frost unloosed, grows bold.
Now comes the days resounding with the cuckoo
and sweet mango scent
to cut the hearts of ladies separated from their lovers.

The progressive verbs add to the feeling of hope that Spring brings. Desire and longing are stretched throughout the poem in the images of bristling pink buds and sweet mango. Spring is a rush to the senses, painfully overwhelming in the final line.

The above images are Indian stamps--the first is a scene of Spring and the second is of Winter. They can be found here.