2 Where are they now? Where are the Twain, the famed Nasatyas, Gods in heaven? 3 Whom do ye visit, whom approach? to whom direct your harnessed car? 4 Ye, Strengtheners, for Paura stir the filler swimming in the flood, 5 Ye from cyavana worn with age removed his skin as 'twere a robe. 6 Here is the man who lauds you both: to see your glory are we here. 7 Who among many mortal men this day hath won you to himself? 8 O Asvins, may your car approach, most excellent of cars for speed. 9 May our laudation of you Twain, lovers of meath! be sweet to you. 10 O Asvins, when at any time ye listen to this call of mine,RV 74 (2) · Rig Veda · null
RV 74 (2)
Rig Veda · translated by Ralph T.H. Griffith
Themes in this passage
Death in other traditions
The same theme, as Christianity, Islam, Taoism and Hellenism address it.
And the children of Israel spake unto Moses, saying, Behold, we die, we perish, we all perish.Numbers 17:12 · Bible · Numbers
Lo! thou wilt die, and lo! they will die;Quran 39:30 · Quran · The Companies
The people do not fear death; to what purpose is it to (try to) frighten them with death? If the people were always in awe of death, and I could always seize those who do wrong, and put them to death, who would dare to do wrong?Tao Te Ching 74.1 · Tao Te Ching
These words, attended with a shower of tears, The youth address’d to unrelenting ears: “Talk not of life, or ransom (he replies): Patroclus dead, whoever meets me, dies: In vain a single Trojan sues for grace; But least, the sons of Priam’s hateful race. Die then, my friend! what boots it to deplore? The great, the good Patroclus is no more! He, far thy better, was foredoom’d to die, And thou, dost thou bewail mortality? Seest thou not me, whom nature’s gifts adorn, Sprung from a hero, from a goddess born? The day shall come (which nothing can avert) When by the spear, the arrow, or the dart, By night, or day, by force, or by design, Impending death and certain fate are mine! Die then,”—He said; and as the word he spoke, The fainting stripling sank before the stroke: His hand forgot its grasp, and left the spear, While all his trembling frame confess’d his fear: Sudden, Achilles his broad sword display’d, And buried in his neck the reeking blade. Prone fell the youth; and panting on the land, The gushing purple dyed the thirsty sand. The victor to the stream the carcase gave, And thus insults him, floating on the wave:Iliad 21.7 · Iliad · 21
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