[18]
There came here a matted-haired ascetic (jaṭila), one living the holy life (brahmacārī),
most fair to behold, his slender body captivating,
neither too tall nor yet too short,
the good sir with his covering of glossy, jet-black hair.
Beardless he is, of youthful complexion,
and at his throat is something shaped like a bowl-stand;
and two twin swellings, shapely, upon his chest,
radiant, like golden tinduka fruits.
And his face is exceedingly fair to behold;
from his ears hang pendants with curling tips,
and these flash as the young man (māṇava) moves about,
as does the cord that binds his matted locks.
And he has four other fastenings besides,
blue and yellow, red and white;
these tinkle as the young man moves about,
like flocks of tiriṭi birds in the season of rains.
He wears no girdle fashioned of muñja grass,
nor, as a covering, one of pabbaja reed;
those garments gleam, caught between his legs,
like lightning flashing in the sky.
And fruits unblemished, without stalks,
are fastened at his waist below the navel;
unstruck, they are ever at play—
ah, father! what tree-fruits are those?
And his matted locks are exceedingly fair to see,
more than a hundred, curled at the tips, sweet-scented;
his head is well parted in two—
oh, that my own locks might be such!
And whenever he loosens those matted locks,
endowed as they are with color and fragrance,
then, like a blue lotus stirred by the wind,
even so this hermitage is wafted with scent.
And the paste upon him is exceedingly fair to see,
in no way like that of my own body;
stirred by the breeze, it breathes its fragrance abroad
like a grove in full flower at the height of summer.
He strikes down upon the earth a tree-fruit,
most wondrous of form, splendid, fair to see;
and once thrown it comes back again to his hand—
ah, father! what tree-fruit indeed is that?
And his teeth are exceedingly fair to see,
clean and even, like the finest conch;
when they are revealed they gladden the mind—
surely he never chewed potherbs with those.
His speech is unharsh, unfaltering, ever gentle,
direct, not haughty, not fickle;
his call, so pleasing, sweet-voiced as the karavīka,
goes to the heart and truly impassions my mind.
His voice is full and rounded, his utterance not over-hasty;
surely he is not one over-given to recitation.
I long indeed to see him yet again,
for the young man was my friend in former days.
A wound well knit, polished smooth on every side,
broad, well formed, resembling a khara leaf—
with that very part the young man, coming astride me,
parted a thigh and pressed me with his loins.
They blaze, they shine, and they glitter
like lightning flashing in the sky;
his arms are soft, their down like añjana,
and with his elegant rounded fingers they are resplendent.
Smooth-limbed is he, nor is his body-hair long;
his nails are long, and red at the tips;
embracing me with his soft arms,
that beautiful one waited on me, giving delight.
Gleaming like the cotton-down of a tree,
their skin fair and rounded like a plate of burnished gold,
soft are his hands; having caressed me with them
he has gone from here—and by that, father, they burn me.
Surely he never carried the ascetic's carrying-load (khārividha);
surely he never broke firewood himself;
surely he never fells trees with an axe;
nor are there any calluses upon his hands.
It was a bear, indeed, that made his wound;
and he said to me, 'Make me happy.'
That I did, and thereby happiness was mine as well;
and he said, 'I am happy, O brahmin.'
And this spread of māluva leaves of yours
lies all in disarray through me and through him;
when we were weary we refreshed ourselves in the water,
and again and again we went back to the leaf-hut.
Today, father, the sacred hymns (manta) do not come to me—
neither the fire-oblation (aggihutta), nor yet the sacrifice there;
and I will not even eat your roots and fruits
so long as I do not see that brahmacārī.
Surely, father, you too must know
in what quarter that brahmacārī dwells;
bring me to that quarter quickly, father—
let me not die here in your hermitage!
For I have heard of a forest gay with blossoms,
resounding with birds, frequented by flocks of birds;
bring me to that forest quickly, father,
before I give up my life in your hermitage!
English translation from the Pali (Siam Raṭṭha edition) — under review, not for citation.