Jhamajjham Iti Varsati

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Song Name: Jhamajjham Iti Varsati

Official Name: Volume 5 Untitled Prayer to Sri Govardhanoddhara

Author: Rupa Goswami

Book Name: Stavamala

Language: Sanskrit

 

LYRICS

(1)

jhamajjham iti varṣati stanita-cakra-vikrīḍayā

vimuṣṭa-ravi-maṇḍale ghana-ghaṭābhir ākhaṇḍale

rarakṣa dharaṇidharoddhṛti-paṭuḥ kuṭumbāni yaḥ

sa dāraytu dāruṇam- vraja-purandaras te daram

 

(2)

mahā-hetu-vādair vidīrṇendra-yāgaḿ

giri-brāhmaṇopāsti-vistīrṇa-rāgam

sapady eka-yuktī-kṛtābhīra-vargaḿ

puro datta-govardhana-kṣmābhṛd-argham

 

(3)

priyāśaḿsinībhir dalottaḿsinībhir

virājat-paṭābhiḥ kumārī-ghaṭābhiḥ

stavadbhiḥ kumārair api sphāra-tāraiḥ

saha vyākirantam- prasūnair dharam- tam

 

(4)

giri-sthūla-dehena bhuktopahāraḿ

vara-śreṇi-santoṣitābhīra-dāram

samuttuńga-śṛńgāvalī-baddha-cailaḿ

kramāt priyamāṇaḿ parikramya śailam

 

(5)

makha-dhvaḿsa-samrambhataḥ svarga-nāthe

samantāt kilārabdha-goṣṭha-pramāthe

muhur varṣati cchanna-dik-cakravāle

sa-dambholi-nirghoṣam ambhoda-jāle

 

(6)

muhur vṛṣṭi-khinnāḿ paritrāsa-bhinnāḿ

vrajeśa-pradhānaḿ taṭiḿ ballavānām

vilokyāpta-śītāḿ gavālīḿ ca bhītāḿ

kṛpābhiḥ samunnaḿ suhṛt-prema-nunnam

 

(7)

tataḥ savya-hastena hastīndra-khelaḿ

samuddhṛtya govardhanaḿ sāvahelam

adabhraḿ tam abhraḿlihaḿ śaila-rājaḿ

mudā bibhrataḿ vibhramaj-jantu-bhājam

 

(8)

pravṛṣṭāsi mātaḥ kathaḿ śoka-bhāre

paribhrājamāne sute mayy udāre

abhūvan bhavanto vinaṣṭopasargā

na citte vidhatta bhramaḿ bandhu-vargāḥ

 

(9)

hatā tāvad ītir vidheyā na bhītiḥ

kṛteyaḿ viśālā mayā śaila-śālā

tad asyāḿ praharṣād avajñāta-varṣā

vihasyāmareśaḿ kurudhvaḿ praveśam                                  

 

(10)

iti svairam āzśvāsitair gopa-vṛndaiḥ

parānanda-sandīpitāsyāravindaiḥ

girer gatram āsādya harmyopamānaḿ

cireṇāti-hṛṣṭaiḥ pariṣṭūyamānam

 

(11)

girīndraḿ guruḿ komale pañca-śākhe

kathaḿ hanta dhatte sakhā te viśākhe

purastād amuḿ prekṣya hā cintayedaḿ

muhur māmakīnāḿ mano yāti bhedam

 

(12)

sthanadbhiḥ kaṭhore ghanair dhvānta-ghore

bhramad-vāta-māle hatāśe ’tra kāle

ghana-sparśi-kūṭaḿ vahann anna-kūṭaḿ

kathaḿ syān na kāntaḥ sarojākṣi tāntaḥ

 

(13)

na tiṣṭhanti goṣṭhe kaṭhorāńga-daṇḍāḥ

kiyanto ’tra gopāḥ samantāt pracaṇḍāḥ

ṣirīṣa-prasūnāvalī-saukumarye

dhṛtā dhūr iyaḿ bhūrir asmin kim ārye

 

(14)

gire tāta govardhana prārthaneyaḿ

vapuḥ sthūla-nālī-laghiṣṭhaḿ vidheyam

bhavantaḿ yathā dhārayann eṣa haste

na dhatte śramaḿ mańgalātman namas te

 

(15)

bhramat-kuntalānta-smita-dyota-kāntaḿ

lasad-gaṇḍa-śobhaḿ kṛtāśeṣa-lobham

sphuran-netra-lāsyaḿ murāres tvam āsyaḿ

varākūṭa-śālī sphuṭaḿ lokayāli

 

(16)

nipīyeti rādhā-latā-vāń-marandaḿ

vara-prema-saurabhya-pūrād amandam

dadhānaḿ madaḿ bhṛńgavat tuńga-kūjaḿ

varāńgī-calāpańga-bhańgāpta-pūjam

 

(17)

kathaḿ nāma dadhyāt kṣudākṣāma-tundaḥ

śiśur me gariṣṭhaḿ girīndraḿ mukundaḥ

tad etasya tuṇḍe haṭhād arpayāraḿ

vrajādhīśa dadhnācitaḿ khaṇḍasāram

 

(18)

mahā-bhāra-niṣṭhe sthite te kaniṣṭhe

labhe vatsa nīlāmbaroddāma-pīḍām

avaṣṭabhya sattvaḿ tad asmai bala tvaḿ

dadasvāvilambaḿ sva-hastāv alambam

 

(19)

iti snigdha-varṇaḿ samākarṇayantaḿ

giraḿ mātur enāḿ ca nirvarṇayantam

kaniṣṭhāgguli-śṛńga-vinyasta-gotraḿ

pariprīnita-vyagra-gopāla-gotram

 

(20)

amībhiḥ prabhāvaiḥ kuto ‘bhūd akuṇṭhaḥ

śiśur dhūli-kelī-paṭuḥ kṣīra-kaṇṭhaḥ

bibharty adya saptābdiko bhūri-bhāraḿ

giriḿ yac cirād eṣa kailāsa-sāram

 

(21)

na śańkhā dhara bhraḿśane ‘smākam asmān

nakhāgre sa-helaḿ vahaty eṣa yasmāt

girir dik-karīndrāgra-haste dharāvad

bhuje paśyatāsya sphuraty adya tāvat

 

(22)

iti sphāratārekṣaṇair mukta-bhogair

vrajendreṇa sārdhaḿ dhṛta-prīti-yogaiḥ

muhur ballavair vīkṣyamānāsya-candraḿ

puraḥ sapta-rātrāntara-tyakta-tandram

 

(23)

taḍid-dāma-kīrṇān samīrair udīrṇān

visṛṣṭāmbudhārān dhanur-yaṣṭi-hārān

tṛṇī-kṛtya ghorān sahasrāḿśu-caurān

durantoru-śabdān kṛtāvajñam abdān

 

(24)

ahańkāra-pańkāvalī-lupta-dṛṣṭer

vrajeṣāvadiṣṭaḿ praṇītoru-vṛṣṭeḥ

balāreś ca durmānitāḿ visphurantaḿ

nirākṛtya duṣṭāli-daṇḍe durantam

 

(25)

visṛṣtoru-nīrāḥ sa-jhañjha-samīrās

taḍidbhiḥ karālā yayur megha-mālā

raviś cāmbarāntar vibhāty eṣa śāntaḥ

kṛtānanda-pūrāḥ bahir yāta śūrāḥ

 

(26)

iti procya niḥsārita-jñāti-vāraḿ

yathāpūrva-vinyasta-śailendra-bhāram

dadhi-kṣira-lājāńkhurair bhāvinībhir

mudā kīryamāṇaḿ yaśastāvinībhiḥ

 

(27)

vayaḿ hanta govinda saundaryavantaḿ

namaskurmahe śarma-hetor bhavantam

tvayi spaṣṭa-niṣṭhyūta-bhūyaś-cid-induḿ

mudā naḥ prasādī-kuru prema-bindum

 

(28)

kṣubhyad-dambholi-jṛmbhottarala-ghana-ghaṭārambha-gambhīra-karmā

nistambho jambhavairī giri-dhṛti-caṭulād vikramād yena cakre

tanvā nindantam indīvara-dala-valabhī-nandad-indīndarābhāḿ

tam- govindādya nandālaya-śaśi-vadanānanda vandemahi tvām

 

TRANSLATION

May the king of Vraja, who, when Indra covered the sun with clouds and sent great rains making tumultuous sounds of jhamajjham with the playing of thunder, protected His relatives by lifting a great hill, break apart all your fears.

 

2-11) O Lord who, by speaking with great logi stopped the indra-yajna, who is very attached to worshiping the brahmanas and Govardhana Hill, who convinced the cowherd men in a moment, who at once began the worship of Govardhana Hill, who, along with the gopi girls speaking words of praise and dressed in splendid garments and crowns of flower petals, and also along with the gopa boys loudly speaking many prayers, showered flowers on the hill, who assumed a form as large as a mountain and ate the offered foodstuffs, who pleased the gopis by fulfilling all their desires, who decorated the hill’s peaks with many flags, who pleased the hill by circumambulating it, who, when, because the indra-yajna was stopped the king of Svarga filled the horizons with thundering clouds showering rain to destroy Vraja, You saw Nanda and the other gopas distressed by the constant rain and broken with fear and the cows cold and fightened, then, impelled by love for Your friends and melting with compassion, with Your left hand, to everyone’s astonishment, like a playful regal elephant, casually and happily lifted and continued to hold Govardhana Hill, the great regal mountain that licks the sky who said: “O mother, why are you unhappy when Your son is noble and generous? Friends, your troubles are over. Have no doubts in your hearts. These troubles are over. Do not be afraid. I have now made this hill into a great house. Don’t take this rain seriously. Laugh at Indra and enter here who was again and again glorified by the gopas, as, with lotus faces glowing with transcendental happiness, and breathing a sigh of relief, they entered the palace-like cavity under the hill, about whom Sri Radha’ said: “Visakha, how is it that your friend is now holding the great, heavy mountain on His delicate five fingers? When I see Him in this way My mind splits with anxiety.

 

O lotus-eyed one, how is it that at this time, when the directions are darkened with terrible thundering clouds and garlanded with hurricane winds, My lover does not feel tired by lifting this great hill, which has just eaten so many offerings of food, and which has many tall peaks that touch the sky?

 

In Vraja are there not many powerful gopa men, their bodies hard with muscles? O noble lady, why should the heavy, shaking hill be held by someone as delicate as a host of sirisa flowers?

 

O Father Govardhana, I pray to you: Please become as light as a big kadamba flower so He will not become tired as He holds you in His hand. O auspicious one, I bow down and offer My respectful obeisances to you. O sincere and noble friend, please gaze now at Murari’s face, splendid with a smile at the edge of its moving locks of hair, with glistening cheeks and the dancing of glittering eyes, and deeply in love with us all who became like an intoxicated, loudly humming black bee drinking from the flowering vine of Radha’s voice this honey, which was sweeter than the flood of the sweet fragrance of the purest love, who was worshiped by the waves of beautiful Radha’s restless sidelong glances, about whom Mother Yasoda said: “How can my boy Mukunda hold up this heavy king of hills when His stomach has become so thin with hunger? O king of Vraja, you must by force Him to eat by putting this sweetened yogurt in His mouth.

 

18-27) O Nilambara Balarama, I am pained now that Your younger brother is holding up this great burden. Show Your strength! Lend Him a hand!” who, hearing these affectionate words from His mother and glancing at her, by casually shifting the hill to the tip of the little finger and holding it with bravado, pacified the worried gopas about whom the gopas said: “How did this seven-year-old boy, who still plays in the dust, and who still practically has His mother’s milk in His throat, get the power to lift for so long this hill heavier than Mount Kailasa? Because He holds it on the tip of His finger with such casual playfulness, we do not fear the hill will fall. Look! The hill in His hand is like the earth at the end of the trunk of the regal elephants that hold up the directions, on the moon of whose face King Nanda and the gopas, who had completely given up eating and who were full of transcendental love, gazed with the great stars of wide-open eyes, who gave up sleeping for seven nights, who mocked Indra’s terrible, lightning-filled, sun-eclipsing, ferociously-thundering clouds propelled by hurricane winds and garlanded with rainbows, who drove away the false pride of blinded-with-the mud-of-ego, rain-sending Indra, who restored prosperity to Vraja, who shows no limit in punishing the wicked who said: “The great rains, the hurricane winds making sounds of jhanjha, the lightning, and the terrible garlands of clouds have all gone. The sun peacefully shines in the sky. O heroes flooded with bliss, now you may all go outside,” who after speaking these words made Your kinsmen go out, who placed the great hill where it was before, and whom the beautiful gopis showered with yogurt, milk, grains, and sprouts, O handsome Lord Govinda, we happily bow down to offer our respects to You. Please be kind and give to us a drop of the pure love that completely eclipses the moon of non-devotional philosophy.

 

O Lord who by strongly lifting Govardhana Hill humbled Indra who shook his thunderbolt and sent many terrible clouds, O Lord who with Your transcendental form eclipses the splendor of swarms of black bees delighted by palace roofs decorated with blue lotus petals, O Lord Govinda, O bliss of Nanda’s house, I offer my respectful obeisances unto You.

 

Remarks/ Extra Information

No Extra Information available for this song!

 

UPDATED:

June 27, 2009