is the Intellect which, knowing right And knowing wrong, and what is
well to do And what must not be done, yet understands
Nought with firm mind, nor as the calm truth is: This is of Rajas,
Prince! and "passionate!" Evil is Intellect which, wrapped
in gloom, Looks upon wrong as right, and sees all things
Contrariwise of Truth.
O Pritha's Son! That is of
Tamas, "dark" and desperate! Good is the
steadfastness whereby a man Masters his beats of heart, his very
breath Of life, the action of his senses; fixed In never-shaken
faith and piety: That is of Sattwan, Prince! "soothfast"
and fair! Stained is the steadfastness whereby a man Holds to his
duty, purpose, effort, end, For life's sake, and the love of goods
to gain, Arjuna! 'tis of Raias, passion-stamped! Sad is
the steadfastness wherewith the fool Cleaves to his sloth, his
sorrow, and his fears, His folly and despair.
This Pritha's Son!- Is born of
Tamas, "dark" and miserable! Hear further, Chief of
Bharatas! from Me The threefold kinds of Pleasure which there
be. Good Pleasure is the pleasure that endures, Banishing pain
for aye; bitter at first As poison to the soul, but afterward Sweet
as the taste of Amrit. Drink of that! It sprigged
in the Spirit's