Bhagavad Gita on Wealth

Silver of moon and gold Of sun are glories rolled From Thy great eyes; Thy visage, beaming tender Throughout the stars and skies, Doth to warm life surprise Thy Universe. The worlds are filled with wonder

Ensnared In nooses of a hundred idle hopes, Slaves to their passion and their wrath, they buy Wealth with base deeds, to glut hot appetites; "Thus much, to-day," they say, "we gained! thereby Such and such wish of heart shall have its fill; And this is ours! and th' other shall be ours! To-day we slew a foe, and we will slay Our other enemy to-morrow! Look! Are we not lords? Make we not goodly cheer? Is not our fortune famous, brave, and great? Rich are we, proudly born! What other men Live like to us? Kill, then, for sacrifice! Cast largesse, and be merry!" So they speak Darkened by ignorance; and so they fall-- Tossed to and fro with projects, tricked, and bound In net of black delusion, lost in lusts-- Down to foul Naraka. Conceited, fond, Stubborn and proud, dead-drunken with the wine Of wealth, and reckless, all their offerings Have but a show of reverence, being not made In piety of ancient faith. Thus vowed To self-hood, force, insolence, feasting, wrath, These My blasphemers, in the forms they wear And in the forms they breed, my foemen are, Hateful and hating; cruel, evil, vile, Lowest and least of men, whom I cast down Again, and yet again, at end of lives, Into some devilish womb, whence--birth by birth-- The devilish wombs re-spawn them, all beguiled; And, till they find and worship Me, sweet Prince! Tread they that Nether Road.

Hath known My form, which passeth mortal knowing; Seen my effulgence--which no eye hath seen-- Than the sun's burning gold more brightly glowing, Dispersing darkness,--unto him hath been

They had their recompense! they stored their treasure, Following the threefold Scripture and its writ; Who seeketh such gaineth the fleeting pleasure Of joy which comes and goes! I grant them it!

Darkness to dazzling day, Look I whichever way; Ah, Lord! I worship Thee, the Undivided, The Uttermost of thought, The Treasure-Palace wrought To hold the wealth of the worlds; the Shield provided

Thou, of all souls the Soul! The Comprehending Whole! Of being formed, and formless being the Framer; O Utmost One! O Lord! Older than eld, Who stored The worlds with wealth of life! O Treasure-Claimer,

Arjuna. Krishna! as I behold, come here to shed Their common blood, yon concourse of our kin, My members fail, my tongue dries in my mouth, A shudder thrills my body, and my hair Bristles with horror; from my weak hand slips Gandiv, the goodly bow; a fever burns My skin to parching; hardly may I stand; The life within me seems to swim and faint; Nothing do I foresee save woe and wail! It is not good, O Keshav! nought of good Can spring from mutual slaughter! Lo, I hate Triumph and domination, wealth and ease, Thus sadly won! Aho! what victory Can bring delight, Govinda! what rich spoils Could profit; what rule recompense; what span Of life itself seem sweet, bought with such blood? Seeing that these stand here, ready to die, For whose sake life was fair, and pleasure pleased, And power grew precious:-grandsires, sires, and sons, Brothers, and fathers-in-law, and sons-in-law, Elders and friends! Shall I deal death on these Even though they seek to slay us? Not one blow, O Madhusudan! will I strike to gain

These be my lower Nature; learn the higher, Whereby, thou Valiant One! this Universe Is, by its principle of life, produced; Whereby the worlds of visible things are born As from a Yoni. Know! I am that womb: I make and I unmake this Universe: Than me there is no other Master, Prince! No other Maker! All these hang on me As hangs a row of pearls upon its string. I am the fresh taste of the water; I The silver of the moon, the gold o' the sun, The word of worship in the Veds, the thrill That passeth in the ether, and the strength Of man's shed seed. I am the good sweet smell Of the moistened earth, I am the fire's red light, The vital air moving in all which moves, The holiness of hallowed souls, the root Undying, whence hath sprung whatever is; The wisdom of the wise, the intellect Of the informed, the greatness of the great. The splendour of the splendid. Kunti's Son! These am I, free from passion and desire; Yet am I right desire in all who yearn, Chief of the Bharatas! for all those moods, Soothfast, or passionate, or ignorant, Which Nature frames, deduce from me; but all Are merged in me--not I in them! The world-- Deceived by those three qualities of being-- Wotteth not Me Who am outside them all, Above them all, Eternal! Hard it is To pierce that veil divine of various shows Which hideth Me; yet they who worship Me Pierce it and pass beyond.

Its branches shoot to heaven and sink to earth,[FN#30] Even as the deeds of men, which take their birth From qualities: its silver sprays and blooms, And all the eager verdure of its girth, Leap to quick life at kiss of sun and air, As men's lives quicken to the temptings fair Of wooing sense: its hanging rootlets seek The soil beneath, helping to hold it there,

Thus far I speak to thee As from the "Sankhya"--unspiritually-- Hear now the deeper teaching of the Yog, Which holding, understanding, thou shalt burst Thy Karmabandh, the bondage of wrought deeds. Here shall no end be hindered, no hope marred, No loss be feared: faith--yea, a little faith-- Shall save thee from the anguish of thy dread. Here, Glory of the Kurus! shines one rule-- One steadfast rule--while shifting souls have laws Many and hard. Specious, but wrongful deem The speech of those ill-taught ones who extol The letter of their Vedas, saying, "This Is all we have, or need;" being weak at heart With wants, seekers of Heaven: which comes--they say-- As "fruit of good deeds done;" promising men Much profit in new births for works of faith; In various rites abounding; following whereon Large merit shall accrue towards wealth and power; Albeit, who wealth and power do most desire Least fixity of soul have such, least hold On heavenly meditation. Much these teach, From Veds, concerning the "three qualities;" But thou, be free of the "three qualities," Free of the "pairs of opposites,"[FN#2] and free From that sad righteousness which calculates; Self-ruled, Arjuna! simple, satisfied![FN#3] Look! like as when a tank pours water forth To suit all needs, so do these Brahmans draw Text for all wants from tank of Holy Writ. But thou, want not! ask not! Find full reward Of doing right in right! Let right deeds be Thy motive, not the fruit which comes from them. And live in action! Labour! Make thine acts Thy piety, casting all self aside, Contemning gain and merit; equable In good or evil: equability Is Yog, is piety!

Better to live on beggar's bread With those we love alive, Than taste their blood in rich feasts spread, And guiltily survive! Ah! were it worse-who knows?--to be Victor or vanquished here, When those confront us angrily Whose death leaves living drear? In pity lost, by doubtings tossed, My thoughts-distracted-turn To Thee, the Guide I reverence most, That I may counsel learn: I know not what would heal the grief Burned into soul and sense, If I were earth's unchallenged chief-- A god--and these gone thence!

The sovereign soul Of him who lives self-governed and at peace Is centred in itself, taking alike Pleasure and pain; heat, cold; glory and shame. He is the Yogi, he is Yukta, glad With joy of light and truth; dwelling apart Upon a peak, with senses subjugate Whereto the clod, the rock, the glistering gold Show all as one. By this sign is he known Being of equal grace to comrades, friends, Chance-comers, strangers, lovers, enemies, Aliens and kinsmen; loving all alike, Evil or good.

Krishna. Gaze, then, thou Son of Pritha! I manifest for thee Those hundred thousand thousand shapes that clothe my Mystery: I show thee all my semblances, infinite, rich, divine, My changeful hues, my countless forms. See! in this face of mine, Adityas, Vasus, Rudras, Aswins, and Maruts; see Wonders unnumbered, Indian Prince! revealed to none save thee. Behold! this is the Universe!--Look! what is live and dead I gather all in one--in Me! Gaze, as thy lips have said, On GOD ETERNAL, VERY GOD! See Me! see what thou prayest!

Krishna. He who with equanimity surveys Lustre of goodness, strife of passion, sloth Of ignorance, not angry if they are, Not wishful when they are not: he who sits A sojourner and stranger in their midst Unruffled, standing off, saying--serene-- When troubles break, "These be the Qualities!" He unto whom--self-centred--grief and joy Sound as one word; to whose deep-seeing eyes The clod, the marble, and the gold are one; Whose equal heart holds the same gentleness For lovely and unlovely things, firm-set, Well-pleased in praise and dispraise; satisfied With honour or dishonour; unto friends And unto foes alike in tolerance; Detached from undertakings,--he is named Surmounter of the Qualities!

When the man, So living, centres on his soul the thought Straitly restrained--untouched internally By stress of sense--then is he Yukta. See! Steadfast a lamp burns sheltered from the wind; Such is the likeness of the Yogi's mind Shut from sense-storms and burning bright to Heaven. When mind broods placid, soothed with holy wont; When Self contemplates self, and in itself Hath comfort; when it knows the nameless joy Beyond all scope of sense, revealed to soul-- Only to soul! and, knowing, wavers not, True to the farther Truth; when, holding this, It deems no other treasure comparable, But, harboured there, cannot be stirred or shook By any gravest grief, call that state "peace," That happy severance Yoga; call that man The perfect Yogin!

Then, at the signal of the aged king, With blare to wake the blood, rolling around Like to a lion's roar, the trumpeter Blew the great Conch; and, at the noise of it, Trumpets and drums, cymbals and gongs and horns Burst into sudden clamour; as the blasts Of loosened tempest, such the tumult seemed! Then might be seen, upon their car of gold Yoked with white steeds, blowing their battle-shells, Krishna the God, Arjuna at his side: Krishna, with knotted locks, blew his great conch Carved of the "Giant's bone;" Arjuna blew Indra's loud gift; Bhima the terrible-- Wolf-bellied Bhima-blew a long reed-conch; And Yudhisthira, Kunti's blameless son, Winded a mighty shell, "Victory's Voice;" And Nakula blew shrill upon his conch Named the "Sweet-sounding," Sahadev on his Called"Gem-bedecked," and Kasi's Prince on his. Sikhandi on his car, Dhrishtadyumn, Virata, Satyaki the Unsubdued, Drupada, with his sons, (O Lord of Earth!) Long-armed Subhadra's children, all blew loud, So that the clangour shook their foemen's hearts, With quaking earth and thundering heav'n.

Of the which be they Who, in white flame of continence, consume Joys of the sense, delights of eye and ear, Forgoing tender speech and sound of song: And they who, kindling fires with torch of Truth, Burn on a hidden altar-stone the bliss Of youth and love, renouncing happiness: And they who lay for offering there their wealth, Their penance, meditation, piety, Their steadfast reading of the scrolls, their lore Painfully gained with long austerities: And they who, making silent sacrifice, Draw in their breath to feed the flame of thought, And breathe it forth to waft the heart on high, Governing the ventage of each entering air Lest one sigh pass which helpeth not the soul: And they who, day by day denying needs, Lay life itself upon the altar-flame, Burning the body wan. Lo! all these keep The rite of offering, as if they slew Victims; and all thereby efface much sin. Yea! and who feed on the immortal food Left of such sacrifice, to Brahma pass, To The Unending. But for him that makes No sacrifice, he hath nor part nor lot Even in the present world. How should he share Another, O thou Glory of thy Line?

The minds untaught mistake Me, veiled in form;-- Naught see they of My secret Presence, nought Of My hid Nature, ruling all which lives. Vain hopes pursuing, vain deeds doing; fed On vainest knowledge, senselessly they seek An evil way, the way of brutes and fiends. But My Mahatmas, those of noble soul Who tread the path celestial, worship Me With hearts unwandering,--knowing Me the Source, Th' Eternal Source, of Life. Unendingly They glorify Me; seek Me; keep their vows Of reverence and love, with changeless faith Adoring Me. Yea, and those too adore, Who, offering sacrifice of wakened hearts, Have sense of one pervading Spirit's stress, One Force in every place, though manifold! I am the Sacrifice! I am the Prayer! I am the Funeral-Cake set for the dead! I am the healing herb! I am the ghee, The Mantra, and the flame, and that which burns! I am-of all this boundless Universe- The Father, Mother, Ancestor, and Guard! The end of Learning! That which purifies In lustral water! I am OM! I am Rig-Veda, Sama-Veda, Yajur-Ved; The Way, the Fosterer, the Lord, the Judge, The Witness; the Abode, the Refuge-House, The Friend, the Fountain and the Sea of Life Which sends, and swallows up; Treasure of Worlds And Treasure-Chamber! Seed and Seed-Sower, Whence endless harvests spring! Sun's heat is mine; Heaven's rain is mine to grant or to withhold; Death am I, and Immortal Life I am, Arjuna! SAT and ASAT, Visible Life, And Life Invisible!

In sight of Brahma all these offerings Are spread and are accepted! Comprehend That all proceed by act; for knowing this, Thou shalt be quit of doubt. The sacrifice Which Knowledge pays is better than great gifts Offered by wealth, since gifts' worth--O my Prince! Lies in the mind which gives, the will that serves: And these are gained by reverence, by strong search, By humble heed of those who see the Truth And teach it. Knowing Truth, thy heart no more Will ache with error, for the Truth shall show All things subdued to thee, as thou to Me. Moreover, Son of Pandu! wert thou worst Of all wrong-doers, this fair ship of Truth Should bear thee safe and dry across the sea Of thy transgressions. As the kindled flame Feeds on the fuel till it sinks to ash, So unto ash, Arjuna! unto nought The flame of Knowledge wastes works' dross away! There is no purifier like thereto In all this world, and he who seeketh it Shall find it--being grown perfect--in himself. Believing, he receives it when the soul Masters itself, and cleaves to Truth, and comes-- Possessing knowledge--to the higher peace, The uttermost repose. But those untaught, And those without full faith, and those who fear Are shent; no peace is here or other where, No hope, nor happiness for whoso doubts. He that, being self-contained, hath vanquished doubt, Disparting self from service, soul from works, Enlightened and emancipate, my Prince! Works fetter him no more! Cut then atwain With sword of wisdom, Son of Bharata! This doubt that binds thy heart-beats! cleave the bond Born of thy ignorance! Be bold and wise! Give thyself to the field with me! Arise!

The rule of all Three Worlds; then, how much less To seize an earthly kingdom! Killing these Must breed but anguish, Krishna! If they be Guilty, we shall grow guilty by their deaths; Their sins will light on us, if we shall slay Those sons of Dhritirashtra, and our kin; What peace could come of that, O Madhava? For if indeed, blinded by lust and wrath, These cannot see, or will not see, the sin Of kingly lines o'erthrown and kinsmen slain, How should not we, who see, shun such a crime-- We who perceive the guilt and feel the shame-- O thou Delight of Men, Janardana? By overthrow of houses perisheth Their sweet continuous household piety, And-rites neglected, piety extinct-- Enters impiety upon that home; Its women grow unwomaned, whence there spring Mad passions, and the mingling-up of castes, Sending a Hell-ward road that family, And whoso wrought its doom by wicked wrath. Nay, and the souls of honoured ancestors Fall from their place of peace, being bereft Of funeral-cakes and the wan death-water.[FN#1] So teach our holy hymns. Thus, if we slay Kinsfolk and friends for love of earthly power, Ahovat! what an evil fault it were! Better I deem it, if my kinsmen strike, To face them weaponless, and bare my breast To shaft and spear, than answer blow with blow.

Yet, the right act Is less, far less, than the right-thinking mind. Seek refuge in thy soul; have there thy heaven! Scorn them that follow virtue for her gifts! The mind of pure devotion--even here-- Casts equally aside good deeds and bad, Passing above them. Unto pure devotion Devote thyself: with perfect meditation Comes perfect act, and the right-hearted rise-- More certainly because they seek no gain-- Forth from the bands of body, step by step, To highest seats of bliss. When thy firm soul Hath shaken off those tangled oracles Which ignorantly guide, then shall it soar To high neglect of what's denied or said, This way or that way, in doctrinal writ. Troubled no longer by the priestly lore, Safe shall it live, and sure; steadfastly bent On meditation. This is Yog--and Peace!

Krishna. Kama it is! Passion it is! born of the Darknesses, Which pusheth him. Mighty of appetite, Sinful, and strong is this!--man's enemy! As smoke blots the white fire, as clinging rust Mars the bright mirror, as the womb surrounds The babe unborn, so is the world of things Foiled, soiled, enclosed in this desire of flesh. The wise fall, caught in it; the unresting foe It is of wisdom, wearing countless forms, Fair but deceitful, subtle as a flame. Sense, mind, and reason--these, O Kunti's Son! Are booty for it; in its play with these It maddens man, beguiling, blinding him. Therefore, thou noblest child of Bharata! Govern thy heart! Constrain th' entangled sense! Resist the false, soft sinfulness which saps Knowledge and judgment! Yea, the world is strong, But what discerns it stronger, and the mind Strongest; and high o'er all the ruling Soul. Wherefore, perceiving Him who reigns supreme, Put forth full force of Soul in thy own soul! Fight! vanquish foes and doubts, dear Hero! slay What haunts thee in fond shapes, and would betray!

Richer than holy fruit on Vedas growing, Greater than gifts, better than prayer or fast, Such wisdom is! The Yogi, this way knowing, Comes to the Utmost Perfect Peace at last.

Yet they are not contained, Those visible things! Receive and strive to embrace The mystery majestical! My Being-- Creating all, sustaining all--still dwells Outside of all!

See! as the shoreless airs Move in the measureless space, but are not space, [And space were space without the moving airs]; So all things are in Me, but are not I.

Who hateth nought Of all which lives, living himself benign, Compassionate, from arrogance exempt, Exempt from love of self, unchangeable By good or ill; patient, contented, firm In faith, mastering himself, true to his word, Seeking Me, heart and soul; vowed unto Me,-- That man I love! Who troubleth not his kind, And is not troubled by them; clear of wrath, Living too high for gladness, grief, or fear, That man I love! Who, dwelling quiet-eyed,[FN#25] Stainless, serene, well-balanced, unperplexed, Working with Me, yet from all works detached, That man I love! Who, fixed in faith on Me, Dotes upon none, scorns none; rejoices not, And grieves not, letting good or evil hap Light when it will, and when it will depart, That man I love! Who, unto friend and foe Keeping an equal heart, with equal mind Bears shame and glory; with an equal peace Takes heat and cold, pleasure and pain; abides Quit of desires, hears praise or calumny In passionless restraint, unmoved by each; Linked by no ties to earth, steadfast in Me, That man I love! But most of all I love Those happy ones to whom 'tis life to live In single fervid faith and love unseeing, Drinking the blessed Amrit of my Being!

The fruit of Soothfastness is true and sweet; The fruit of lusts is pain and toil; the fruit Of Ignorance is deeper darkness. Yea! For Light brings light, and Passion ache to have; And gloom, bewilderments, and ignorance Grow forth from Ignorance. Those of the first Rise ever higher; those of the second mode Take a mid place; the darkened souls sink back To lower deeps, loaded with witlessness!

The gift lovingly given, when one shall say "Now must I gladly give!" when he who takes Can render nothing back; made in due place, Due time, and to a meet recipient, Is gift of Sattwan, fair and profitable.

The fruit of labours, in the lives to come, Is threefold for all men,--Desirable, And Undesirable, and mixed of both; But no fruit is at all where no work was.

There is "right" Action: that which being enjoined-- Is wrought without attachment, passionlessly, For duty, not for love, nor hate, nor gain. There is "vain" Action: that which men pursue Aching to satisfy desires, impelled By sense of self, with all-absorbing stress: This is of Rajas--passionate and vain. There is "dark" Action: when one doth a thing Heedless of issues, heedless of the hurt Or wrong for others, heedless if he harm His own soul--'tis of Tamas, black and bad!

There is the "rightful"doer. He who acts Free from self-seeking, humble, resolute, Steadfast, in good or evil hap the same, Content to do aright-he "truly" acts. There is th' "impassioned" doer. He that works From impulse, seeking profit, rude and bold To overcome, unchastened; slave by turns Of sorrow and of joy: of Rajas he! And there be evil doers; loose of heart, Low-minded, stubborn, fraudulent, remiss, Dull, slow, despondent--children of the "dark."

For nothing lives on earth, nor 'midst the gods In utmost heaven, but hath its being bound With these three Qualities, by Nature framed.