The Bhagavadgîtâ, with the Sanatsugâtîya and the Anugîtâ — SBE Vol. 8 (trans. K. T. Telang, 1882)
The translator’s English as printed (K. T. Telang). The original-language text is not held; names are romanised as the translator printed them.
If we look next to the general style of this poem, we find that it has none of that elaboration which marks what I have called the age of Kavyas and Nâṭakas. The remarks on this topic in the Introduction to the Gita apply pretty accurately to this work also. We observe here the same paucity of long-drawn compounds, the same absence of merely ornamental adjectives, the same absence of figures and tropes’; in one word, the same directness and simplicity of style. Furthermore, there is a somewhat greater want of finish about the syntax of our poem than there is even in the Gita. Such constructions as we find inter alia at chapter II, stanza 2, or 25, or at chapter III, stanza 14, or chapter IV, stanza 12, or in the early verses of the last chapter, indicate a period in the history of the language, when probably the regulations of syntax were not quite thoroughly established in practice.
If we turn to the metre of the poem, an analogous phenomenon strikes us there. Similar irregularities in the collocation of long and short syllables, similar superfluities and deficiencies of syllables, meet us in the Sanatsugâtîya and the Bhagavadgità. And in the former work, as in the latter, the irregularities are less observable in the Anushṭubh? than in the other metres used. Probably the explanation, apart from the great elasticity of that metre, is that the Anushṭubh had been more used, and had in consequence become comparatively more settled in its scheme even in practical composition. ;
Looking now more particularly to the language of the work before us, we find one word to be of most frequent occurrence, namely, the word vai, which we have rendered ‘verily.’ It is not a common word in the later literature, while in the Upanishad literature we meet with great frequency, not merely vai, but the words, which I think are cognate with it, va and vâva. The former word, indeed, Pee ee a eT Be ys gl bee ee appears to me to stand in some passages of the Upanishads for vai by euphonic alterations. Thus in the passage tvam va aham asmi bhagavo devate, aham vai tvam asi, it is difficult not to suppose that the va of the first part of the sentence is the same word as the vai of the second part, only altered according to the rules of Sandhi in Sanskrit.
1 The five similes which occur, and which are nearly all that occur, in the poem, are the very primitive ones—of the hunter, of water on grass, the tiger of straw, death eating men like a tiger, dogs eating what is vomited, a branch of a tree and the moon, and birds and their nests.
* Cf. as to this the Nṛisimha Tapint, p. 105.
If we turn next to the general style of this poem, we find none of the elaboration that marks what I have called the age of Kavyas and Nâṭakas. The remarks on this subject in the Introduction to the Gita apply fairly accurately to this work as well. We observe here the same scarcity of long-drawn compounds, the same absence of purely ornamental adjectives, the same absence of figures and tropes; in a word, the same directness and simplicity of style. Beyond this, the syntax of our poem is somewhat less polished even than that of the Gita. Constructions such as those found, among other places, at chapter II, stanza 2, or 25, or at chapter III, stanza 14, or chapter IV, stanza 12, or in the early verses of the last chapter, point to a period in the history of the language when the rules of syntax had probably not yet been thoroughly established in practice.
If we turn to the metre of the poem, an analogous phenomenon strikes us there. Similar irregularities in the arrangement of long and short syllables, similar surpluses and deficiencies of syllables, appear in the Sanatsujâtîya and the Bhagavadgità alike. And in the former work, as in the latter, the irregularities are less noticeable in the Anushṭubh than in the other metres used. The explanation, setting aside the great flexibility of that metre, is probably that the Anushṭubh had been more widely used and had therefore become comparatively more settled in its scheme even in actual composition.
Looking more particularly at the language of the work before us, we find one word occurring most frequently: the word vai, which we have rendered 'verily.' It is not a common word in the later literature, while in the Upanishad literature we meet with great frequency not merely vai but also the words va and vâva, which I think are cognate with it. The former word, indeed, seems to me in some passages of the Upanishads to stand for vai by euphonic alteration. Thus in the passage tvam va aham asmi bhagavo devate, aham vai tvam asi, it is hard not to suppose that the va in the first part of the sentence is the same word as the vai in the second part, only altered according to the rules of Sandhi in Sanskrit.
1 The five similes in the poem—nearly the only ones it contains—are of the most primitive kind: the hunter, water on grass, the straw tiger, death devouring men like a tiger, dogs eating vomit, a tree branch and the moon, and birds and their nests.
* Cf. as to this the Nṛisimha Tapint, p. 105.