A Spider and a Fly

One day a spider said to a fly,

'Though you pass this way daily
My hut has never been honored by you,
By making a chance visit inside, by you,
Though depriving strangers of a visit does not matter,
Evading the near and dear ones does not look good,
My house will be honored by a visit by you,
My ladder is before you if you decide to step in,'
Hearing this the fly said to the spider,
'Sire, you should entice some simpleton thus,
This fly would never be pulled into your net,
Whoever climbed your net could never step down,
The spider said, 'How strange, you consider me a cheat,
I have never seen a simpleton like you in the world,
I only wanted to entertain you,
I had no personal gain in view,
You have come flying from some unknown distant place,
Resting for a while in a house would not harm you,
Many things in this house are worth your seeing,
Though apparently a humble hut you are seeing,
Dainty drapes are hanging from the doors,
And I have decorated the walls with mirrors,
Bedding's are available for guests comforts,
Not to everyone's lot do fall these comforts,'
The fly said, 'All this may very well be,
But do not expect me to enter your house,
'May God protect me from these soft beds,
Once asleep in them getting up again is impossible,
The spider spoke to itself on hearing this talk,
'How to trap it? This wretched fellow is clever,
Many desires are fulfilled with flattery in the world,
 All in the world are enslaved with flattery,'
Thinking this the spider spoke to the fly thus,
'Madam, God has bestowed great honors on you!
Everyone loves your beautiful face,
Even if someone see's you for the first time,
Your eyes look like clusters of diamonds,
God has adorned your beautiful head with a plume,
This beauty, this dress, this elegance, this neatness!
And all this very much enhanced by singing in flight.'
The fly was touched by this flattery,
And spoke, 'I do not fear you anymore,
I hate the habit of declining requests
Disappointing somebody is bad indeed.'
Saying this it flew from it's place,
When it came close the spider snapped it,
The spider had been starving for many days,
The fly provided a good leisurely meal.
 A Mountain and a Squirrel
A mountain was saying this to a squirrel
Commit suicide if you have self-respect

You are insignificant, still so arrogant, how strange!

You are neither wise, nor intelligent! not even shrewd!

It is strange when the insignificant pose as important!

When the stupid ones like you pose as intelligent!

You are no match in comparison with my splendour

Even the earth is low compared with my splendour

The grandeur of mine does not fall to your lot

The poor animal cannot equal the great mountain!

On hearing this the squirrel said, Hold your tongue!

These are immature thoughts, expel them from your heart!

I do not care if I am not large like you!

You are not a pretty little thing like me

Everything shows the Omnipotence of God

Some large, some small, is the Wisdom of God

He has created you large in the world

And He has taught me climbing large trees

You are unable to walk a single step

Only large size! What other greatness have you?

If you are large show me some of the skills I have

Show me how you break this beetle nut as I can

Nothing is useless in this world

Nothing is bad in God’s creation
 A Cow and A Goat
There was a verdant pasture somewhere
Whose land was the very picture of beauty

How can the beauty of that elegance be described

Brooks of sparkling water were running on every side

Many were the pomegranate trees

And so were the shady pipal trees

Cool breeze flowed everywhere

Birds were singing everywhere

A goat arrived at a brook’s bank from somewhere

It came browsing from somewhere in the nearby land

As she stopped and looked around

She noticed a cow standing by

The goat first presented her compliments to the cow

Then respectfully started this conversation

“How are you! Madam Cow”?

The cow replied, “Not too well

My life is in danger, what can I say?

My luck is bad, what can I say?

I am surprised at the state of affairs

I am cursing the evil people
The poor ones like us are powerless
Misfortunes surround the ones like us

None should nicely deal with Man

May God protect us from Man!

He murmurs if my milk declines

He sells me if my weight declines
He subdues us with cleverness!
Alluring, he always subjugates us!

I nurse his children with milk

I give them new life with milk
 My goodness is repaid with evil
My prayer to God is for mercy!”

Having heard the cow’s story like this

The goat replied, “This complaint is unjust

Though truth is always bitter

I shall speak what is fair

This pasture, and this cool breeze

This green grass and this shade

Such comforts, were beyond our lot!

They were a far cry for us speechless poor!

We owe these pleasures to Man

We owe all our happiness to Man

We derive all our prosperity from him

What is better for us, freedom or bondage to him?

Hundreds of dangers lurk in the wilderness

May God protect us from the wilderness
We are heavily indebted to him
Unjust is our complaint against him

If you appreciate the life’s comforts

You would never complain against Man

Hearing all this the cow felt embarrassed

She was sorry for complaining against Man

She mused over the good and the bad

And thoughtfully she said this

“Small though is the body of the goat

Convincing is the advice of the goat!”
 The Bird's Complaint
I am constantly reminded of the bygone times
Those garden’s springs, those chorus of chimes

Gone are the freedoms of our own nests

Where we could come and go at our own pleasure

My heart aches the moment I think

Of the buds' smile at the dew's tears

That beautiful figure, that Kamini's form

Which source of happiness in my nest did form

I do not hear those lovely sounds in my cage now

May it happen that my freedom be in my own hands now!

How unfortunate I am, tantalized for my abode I am

My companions are in the home‐land, in the prison I am

Spring has arrived, the flower buds are laughing

On my misfortune in this dark house I am wailing

O God, To whom should I relate my tale of woe?

I fear lest I die in this cage with this woe (grief)!

Since separation from the garden the condition of my heart is such

My heart is waxing the grief, my grief is waxing the heart

O Listeners, considering this music do not be happy

This call is the wailing of my wounded heart
O the one who confined me make me free
A silent prisoner I am, earn my blessings free
 The Wave of River
My restless heart doth never keep me still:
This inner core of me is mercury.

They call me wave. The ocean is my goal.

No chain of whirling eddy holdeth me.

My steed like air upon the water rides.

My garment’s hem on thorn of fish e’er tore,
When moon is full sometimes I leap all fey;
Sometimes all mad I dash my head on shore.

I am the pilgrim loving journey’s stage.

Why am I restless? If my heart make quest.

I flee from the cramped torment of the stream,

Away from the sea’s wide spaces, all distressed.

Firefly
 Is the firefly aglow in the garden’s abode?
Or blazes a lamp in the throng of the flowers?

Has a star fluttered down that high aloft rode?

Has a ray of the moon won some life-throbbing powers?

Has the envoy of day come to realms of the night?

Come humbly, a gleam to its own land unknown?

Has there fallen a whorl that moon’s cloak once bedight?

From the robe of the sun has a sequin been shown?

Here is hidden the sheen of Old Beauty and bright

That Nature uncovers for men of our day.

In this little moon are both darkness and light,

As eclipse may advance, or eclipse pass away.

The moth and the firefly through air both take wing.
One seeks for light: one in light’s all arrayed:

On earth nature grants all some soulgladd’ning thing.

For the moth was heat, for the firefly light made.

On birds that were tongueless it dowered melody:

Gave a tongue to the rose but withheld from it song.

For sunset it fashioned sheer half‐light to see;

Set fairy a‐glitter but her life made not long:

The morning made brilliant like sweet bird of love:

Clad down in red robes—with dew’s mirror dawn plays.

It brought the tree shadiness, caused air to move,

Set motion to water, taught waves’ restless ways.

Yet this is a puzzle that troubles our mind.

The day of the firefly for us is the night.

In everything luster of beauty we fine;

In man there is speech: opening buds smile delight.

This moon of the sky is as heat of the bard.

There shines the bright moon: here is anguish of pain.

There must be some trick in the ways of the word:

Else the bird would be fragrance, the flower sing refrain.
 The riddle of union’s in beauty rich hid.
The glitter of firefly is fragrance of flower.

Then why comes perversely this discord unbid

When all things at heart hide this silence of power?

Firefly and Bird

 Early one Evening the sweet voice was heard,
As it sat on a twig, of a carolling bird
When it spied something glittering there on the ground
It flew to the place and a firefly it found.

The firefly said: “Bird of the musical charm,

Take your sharp beak away: do a poor one no harm,

Allah granted you song and gave the flower scent:

That same Allah to me did my lustre present.

My being is hidden in garments of light,

The zenith of creatures that flutter in flight.

If your dulcet note has of Heaven the ear,

The eye of that Heaven sees my gleaming clear.

While Nature with sparkle did cover my wing

It gave you the song that charms hearts when you sing.

It instructed yours beak in all musical grace

And made me the torch of the garden’s space.

Flashing it gave you: to me it gave voice.

My portion is radiance: in song you rejoice.

Radiance and song in this world are not foes;

They cling to each other in harmony close.

Creation’s firm frame is compact of the two:

All heights and all depths are to both alike due.

They mingle together to make every thing;

In this garden from both comes the beauty of spring.”
 Sympathy

(Adapted for Children from William Cowper)

Perched on the branch of a tree

Was a nightingale sad and lonely

“The night has drawn near”, He was thinking

“I passed the day in flying around and feeding

How can I reach up to the nest

Darkness has enveloped everything”?

Hearing the nightingale wailing thus

A glow‐worm lurking nearby spoke thus

“With my heart and soul ready to help I am

Though only an insignificant insect I am

Never mind if the night is dark

I shall shed light if the way is dark

God has bestowed a torch on me

He has given a shining lamp to me

The good in the world only those are

Ready to be useful to others who are