Reading 244, from Jinabai
Cast off all shame
And sell yourself
In the market place;
Then alone you may hope
To reach the Lord.
Cymbals in hand,
A veena upon my shoulder,
I walk the streets;
Dare anyone stop me?
The pallav of my sari
Falls away ( A scandal!)
Yet will I enter
The crowded street
Without a thought
Jani says, My Lord
I’ve openly embraced whoredom
Just to worm my way
Into your much-prized, blessed mansion.
The Lord collects the dirt,
Carries it upon his head,
Dumps it in the garbage.
Won over by devotion
The Lord does lowly chores!
Jani cries:
O Vithoba,
How shall I ever pay your debt?
Transl. Vilas Sarang
My notes:
I first got to know of this poem from my friend , Prof Sachin Ketkar. Prof. Ketkar is himself an established poet and dexterous theoretician.
In the ensuing discussion with another afficiando there, this is what I had to say of this poem:
Incidentally, the idea of whoring for God has a long history, both Western & Eastern. In the West Russian mendicants often called themselves whores of Christ, while now we call them Fools for Christ ( there is a book on them by this name somewhere).
In the East, the immediate example I can remember is that of Mirabai and the whole Devdasi tradition.
In short, I find the transcreated words adding the right nuances…
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