The Birth of Urvashi (Poem)

 II. The Birth of Urvashi
from: A Flame for a Moth by Padma Devkota

And to Spring he spoke: “A higher law commands!
Awake to full power! Tone and contrast
all shades and colours! Rise, O, soft and slow!
Breathe gently so the young shoots do not start
with winter fear of termination dreams,
breathe life into the very stones that sleep
blanketed by green, wet moss in slumber deep!
Shine with a celestial lustre bright
to freshen up the enveloping air,
let it resound with sylvan orchestra
chirruping, chirping, twittering delights!
Let gurgles, murmurs, tumbling cataracts
drown the whisper of ripples over rocks
lovingly caressed by sparkling water,
let banks be quenched and earth so water-drunk
exhale her high spirit in aroma sweet!
Wear your verdure enhanced by coloured blooms,
allow a myriad shapes and textures fine
to express the soul of superb beauty,
distil your essence into a daisy—
and, here, give it to me!” So saying, he
culled a white daisy soft and fresh as snow
with double stellate petals from a glow
of golden cushion, like the morning sun
cuddled by doting Himalayan peaks.

And this he laid upon his loving lap
whence like the flower's breath a translucent
mist of beauty unfurled to shape and form—
such shape as seduces with sensuous joy,
such form as fills the heart with devout bliss,
a shape to possess and a form to hold
in highest reverence of holy dread,
a shape to touch, a form to meditate,
an eyeful being and a soulful nymph!

She gasped and inhaled Narayana's breath,
and opened slow the calyx of her eye,
and, as with life's initial breath her breasts
heaved like the swelling sea beneath the moon,
a lunar peace descended on her joy
of discovery of this genuine love
whom she held with filial reverence.
“Rise!” he said. She rose. She took two steps back.
She stood with folded palms and reverence.
She bowed and thrice around him humbly walked
and awaited his command, which he spoke:
“Blessed daughter! Commander of all hearts!
You, the progeny of my rich vision,
shall now with grace and charm allure the world
with art and nature mingled into one
divine seductress of Indra's heaven.
Let the king of heaven forget the sage
in lonely penance and not dare disturb
serene contemplation of higher truths
as he, magnetized by your dance and song,
delights in sensual pleasures and the vine
that yields the soma for his tingling nerves.
Dance, Urvashi, in heaven's court. Go, dance!
For with this spring is born a new romance!”