| Krishna. This deathless Yoga, this
deep union, I taught Vivaswata, the Lord of Light; Vivaswata to Manu
gave it; he To Ikshwaku; so passed it down the line Of all my royal
Rishis. Then, with years, The truth grew dim and perished, noble Prince!
Now once again to thee it is declared- This ancient lore, this mystery supreme-
Seeing I find thee votary and friend.
Arjuna. Thy birth, dear Lord, was in these later days
And bright Vivaswata's preceded time! How shall I comprehend this thing thou
sayest, "From the beginning it was Who
taught?"
Krishna. Manifold the renewals of
my birth Have been, Arjuna! and of thy births, too! But mine I know, and
thine thou knowest not, O Slayer of thy Foes! Albeit I be Unborn, undying, indestructible,
The Lord of all things living; not the less- By Maya, by my magic which I stamp On floating Nature-forms, the primal
vast- I come, and go, and come.
|
