Bubbles of the Foam

Front Cover
G.P. Putnam's sons, 1919 - Hindu legends - 160 pages
0 Reviews
 

What people are saying - Write a review

We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.

Other editions - View all

Common terms and phrases

Popular passages

Page xiii - as an emblem of the treacherous and bewildering fascination of the fleeting shadows of this lower life- 'ihaloka* ; -the beauty that is hollow, the Bubble of the World. And thus, Disappointment is of the essence of Existence : disappointment, which can only come about, when hopes and expectations have been founded on a want of understanding- 'awiweka'; -a blindness, born of Desire, that sets and keeps its unhappy victims hunting, in vain, for what is not to be found.
Page 44 - Swayamwara," floated with 1 Sc. the Himalaya. 2 The old epics are full of stories of these gatherings, held to enable the daughters of Kings to choose their own husbands. The story of the marriage in Herodotus, about which Hippocleides did not care, is one of the few parallels in the west. indistinct and unimaginable beauty in the blue haze of the sand, with an intoxicating fascination that almost took away her breath, till she was amazed and even frightened to find her own heart furiously beating,...
Page xvii - IS,4 attainable only through knowledge, the great illuminator, the awakener to the perception of the truth. We move, like marionettes, pulled by the strings of our forgotten antenatal deeds, in a magic cage, or Net, of false and hypocritical momentary seemings: and bitter disappointment is the inevitable doom of every soul, that with passion for its guide in the gloom, thinks to find in the shadows that surround it any substance, any solid satisfaction; any permanent in the mutable; any rest in the...
Page xvii - ... memory, and a bitter taste of brine ? And as love is but a bubble, so are all its victims merely bubbles of a bubble : for this also is mirage. Mirage! mirage! That is the keynote of the old melancholy Indian music; the bass, whose undertone accompanies, with a kind of monotonous solemnity, all the treble variations in the minor key. The world is unreal, a delusion and a snare ; sense is deception, happiness a dream; nothing has true being, is absolute, but virtue, the sole reality ; that which...
Page vii - That appears to me to be improbable. But who writes them? I cannot tell. They come to me, one by one, suddenly, like a flash of lightning, all together: I see them in the air before me, like a little Bayeux tapestry, complete, from end to end, and write them down, hardly lifting the pen from the paper, straight off "from the MS.
Page v - Years, looking forward, all too slow. Yet looking back, too fast. What is your joy, what is your woe, But scented ash that used to glow. A sandal wood of long ago, A camphor of the past?
Page 25 - ... them come to thee in broad daylight? For is it not laid down in all the Shastras, that even an abhisarika,1 were she dying for her lover, must notwithstanding observe times and seasons, choosing for her expedition only proper opportunities, such as are afforded by a winter night, or a dense fog, or 1 There is a ludicrous pedantry about the elaborate categories of Hindoo sages : they make grammatical rules even for every department of erotics : as if it were necessary for ladies to learn the grammar...
Page xxii - ... samadhi' meditation : every outline of every attitude, in that clear Indian air, as sharp as if cut with scissors out of paper. And lying close beside, cheek by jowl with the bodies still alive, the ashes of dead bodies just burned or still burning on the Ghat. Life and Death touching, running into one another, and nobody amazed : all as it should be, and a matter of course ! England and India, bureaucracy, democracy, sedition, education, politics and Durbars: -the world with all its tumult and...
Page 23 - IV So then, after a while, the heart of King Jaya broke within him. For he became odious in the eyes of all his subjects by reason of the behaviour of his son, who paid no more regard to his admonitions than a mad elephant does to a rope of grass. And he died, consumed by the two fires of a burning fever and a devouring grief: and his wife followed him through the flames of yet another fire, as if to say: I will die no other death than his own.

Bibliographic information