[3]A crore is ten millions.
BOOK IV.
Far from his kingdom, far from home and
friends,
The prince has gone, his flowing locks
close shorn,
His rings and soft apparel laid aside,
All signs of rank and royalty cast off.
Clothed in a yellow robe, simple and coarse,
Through unknown streets from door to door
he passed,
Holding an alms-bowl forth for willing
gifts.
But when, won by his stateliness and grace,
They brought their choicest stores, he
gently said:
“Not so, my friends, keep such for
those who need—
The sick and old; give me but common food.”
And when sufficient for the day was given,
He took a way leading without the walls,
And through rich gardens, through the
fruitful fields,
Under dark mangoes and the jujube trees,
Eastward toward Sailagiri, hill of gems;
And through an ancient grove, skirting
its base,
Where, soothed by every soft and tranquil
sound,
Full many saints were wearing out their
days
In meditation, earnest, deep, intent,
Seeking to solve the mystery of life,
Seeking, by leaving all its joys and cares,
Seeking, by doubling all its woes and
pains,
To gain an entrance to eternal rest;
And winding up its rugged sides, to where
A shoulder of the mountain, sloping west,
O’erhangs a cave with wild figs
canopied.
This mountain cave was now his dwelling-place,
A stone his pillow, and the earth his
bed,
His earthen alms-bowl holding all his
stores
Except the crystal waters, murmuring near.
A lonely path, rugged, and rough, and
steep;
A lonely cave, its stillness only stirred
By eagle’s scream, or raven’s
solemn croak,
Or by the distant city’s softened
sounds,
Save when a sudden tempest breaks above,
And rolling thunders shake the trembling
hills—
A path since worn by countless pilgrims’
feet,
Coming from far to view this hallowed
spot,
And bow in worship on his hard, cold bed,
And press his pillow with their loving
lips.
For here, for six long years, the world-renowned,
The tender lover of all living things,
Fasted and watched and wrestled for the
light,
Less for himself than for a weeping world.
And here arrived, he ate his simple meal,
And then in silent meditation sat
The livelong day, heedless of noon’s
fierce heat
That sent to covert birds and panting
beasts,
And from the parched and glowing plain
sent up,
As from a furnace, gusts of scorching
air,
Through which the city’s walls,
the rocks and trees.
All seemed to tremble, quiver, glow and
shake,
As if a palsy shook the trembling world;
Heedless of loosened rocks that crashed
so near,
And dashed and thundered to the depths
below,
And of the shepherds, who with wondering