I know a father's love.
Your love for me I for Rahula feel,
And who can better know that deepest love
Whose tendrils round my very heartstrings twine!
But crores of millions, with an equal love,
Fathers and mothers, children, husbands, wives,
In doubt and darkness groping blindly on,
Cry out for help. Not lack of love for you,
Or my Rahula or Yasodhara,
But love for them drove me to leave my home.
The greatest kingdoms are like ocean's foam,
A moment white upon the crested wave.
The longest life is but a passing dream,
Whose changing scenes but fill a moment's space.
But these poor souls shall live in joy or woe
While nations rise and fall and kalpas pass,
And this proud city crumbles to decay
Till antiquarians search its site in vain,
And beasts shall burrow where this palace stands.
Not for the pleasures of a passing day,
Like shadows flitting ere you point their place,
Not for the transient glories of a king,
Now clothed in scarlet but to-morrow dust,
Can I forget those loving, living souls,
Groping in darkness, vainly asking help."
And then he showed the noble eightfold path
From life's low levels to Nirvana's heights,
While king and people on the master gazed,
Whose face, beaming with pure, unselfish love,
Transfigured seemed; and many noble youth,
And chief Ananda, the Beloved called,
Forsook their gay companions and the round
Of youthful sports, and joined the master's band.
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