Bhaja Govindam Poem by Sathya Narayana

Chant Govinda, chant Govinda
ye chant, oh chant, hey Govinda!
When time is running out O fools
what use this rote of grammar rules.

For money O dimwits, quit thirst.
With thoughts upright, cleanse minds off lust.
With what you earn through fair career
enjoy this life with ease and cheer.

Leer not at dames waistlines laden
by rotund breasts-burden, O men.
Mere blood and flesh are they; appraise
and keep this truth in mind always.

This life a drop on lotus leaf,
aglow, but know, fickle and brief
with vile disease and pride, and lo
whole world is filled with great sorrow.

Till earns your brawn, your kith and kin
display their love and affection.
When muscles sag, body effete
no one around even to greet.

Till breath in body yours remains
all-hail your kith and kin with glee.
That breath when flees, at your remains
even your wife cant dare to see.

Playful you were as juvenile,
when young around sirens meander,
when old you turn sickly, senile.
No time you find over God ponder.

O brother dear, whos wife, whos son;
baffling is life! You came from where,
to whom belong? Study anon
the life phenomenon, with care.

Through good fellowships, abstinence,
by abstinence lo temperance
by temperance divine calmness
divine calmness means bliss boundless.

10. No more desires beyond the youth!
When dry up waters wheres the mere?
When trimmed is wealth, wherere near and dear
and wheres samsara, realized when truth?

Dont preen at men, money and brawn
you own and waste your time pristine.
By weird Maya this world is drawn,
realize and step into divine.

Come days and nights, twilights and dawns.
In sequence jaunt autumns, prance springs.
By whirls of time erode life-spans,
survive yet lust tempests on wings.

For wife and wealth, O men why moan.
Isnt there divine despot in reign?
In worlds those men austere alone
can help you cross the worldly main.

Through this rosette of flowery hymns
I taught you all O dear pupils.
If still they fail to rake your ken
what can I do alas, what else?

Long braids, bare heads and tight pigtails;
oh many guises saffron robed!
But none perceives the truth unrobed!
All guiles, to feed the poor entrails! !


His limbs weakened, hair white bristles;
toothless his mouth is looking bare.
Senile, with stick in hand shambles,
yet grips he bag of wants, with care.

In front balefire, behind Suns prowl,
nightlong his knees supporting jowl.
In bare palms, alms, tree-shades for nap;
yet no escape from passions trap.

A dip in Ganges, bath in brine
penance and giving alms; in births
hundred, of faiths any are vain.
Sans true wisdom, Moksha is myth.

My home, the temple-tree shadow,
my bed the hardy rock and dress
deer-skin. By giving all; I owe
nothing and own nothing; thats bliss.

Be he a Yogi or a socialite
recluse or roué, whose mind always
is set in His divine delight
ever regales, ever regales!

One who went through Geeta a flip,
one who swallowed Gangas driblet,
one who once did Vishnus worship,
with Lord Yama has no debate.

Theres birth again and death again.
In mothers womb we sleep, again!
Impassable is lifes head-sea!
O Lord Vishnu, mercy, mercy!

That tramp with dirty linen wad
neither sinful nor beatific.
A saint with mind discreet, like mad,
like kids his life esoteric.

Whore you and who am I? From where
you came? Whos my mother? Father
is who? Think well of life with care
as well discard all dreams blether.

Theres one Vishnu in you and I.
Why get irate at me in vain?
To find that immanence, oh try;
when equipoise and peace you gain!

With friend or foe, with son or kin
dont fight nor make a pact. In all
the one Atman you see and cull
the nesience of bias to win!

Lust, anger, avarice and craze,
a saint deserts to know that hes
none other than the sacred blaze,
while nitwits wheeze by hellish squeeze.

To croon; His thousand names and psalms,
to meditate; His sacred forms,
good company to keep mind pure
and your money to share with poor.

For pleasure reach you dames, O men
but turn sickly you soon and then
you think that death alone is cure;
yet cant retreat from deeds impure.

Money authors all crises free!
Believe me, coins can earn no glee!
Money breeds every enemy;
your son you fear; why dont you see?

Control your breath, focus on goal;
discern between the mutable
and eternal and muse on soul;
chanting His name, become noble.

The Lotus feet of your Guru
embrace with devotion and soon
can rein the chaotic mind typhoon;
when appears He, O man in you!



Om Thatsath