| Sr # | Vachanas | Sr # | Vachanas |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | There has spread the moss of ignorance On the ocean of knowledge sweet as nectar; It will not recede unless pushed back By him who wishes to drink water, Nor does it cease to spread again. 1 | 2 | As water freezes into hailstone And liquid ghee into solid ghee, The great Linga, the Supreme Light divine Transforms Itself for the good of the world Into Guru, Linga and Jangama. 1 |
| 3 | As a small seed contains a big tree, As a glass on the palm shows the images of elephants and mountains, The Supreme Shivalinga, with a noble desire to redeem all his true votaries, Has come to assume the form of Linga 1 | 4 | "At the touch of the Guru-bull The devotee-cow becomes the mother, The Linga is the calf, the body is the udder, The mind itself is pure milk." 1 |
| 5 | What if a bullock is born of a cow? He is not Basava without Linga's stamp. What if an embryo grows in a Jangama's womb? He is not Jangama without initiation. If he goes to gargle water Without initiation among devotees, It's like a stray dog's pissing on a tree trunk!" "Can calves born of a street bull And stray cattle become Basavas, Unless they receive Linga's stamp? The devotees' children can't become devotees Unless the Guru bestows the Linga on them." 1 | 6 | The Guru and the disciple should be Like light hidden in light, Like an image hidden in a mirror, Like a pearl hidden in a crystal cube, Like the heart of body's shadow Like holding mirror to mirror. 1 |
| 7 | Sir, can a white ant eat a diamond? Sir, can a serpent sting a bag of gunpowder? Sir, can a dog sleep on a burning oven? 1 | 8 | As gold doesn't know its value And jaggery its sweetness, As stone lies hidden in warer, And fragrance in a flower, As camphor is concealed in fire, So is he who is in Mahalinga, Knowing not, identified with Linga 1 |
| 9 | When the lightning comes, We should be ready to use it for our experiment. And we should lose no time to make use Of the rainbow when it shines in the sky. Wasting no time, all at once We must use the mystic speech When the mystics talk with an open mind. Self-will'd are the Sharanas Who are one with Lord Kudala-channasanga 1 | 10 | If the alchemic stone touches a dog of iron Will it turn into alchemic dog? At best it will be a golden dog. If you try to convert a man of the world Into a devotee of Shiva, Only the change of dress can be seen in him But not of his heart and soul. So, O Lord Kudal Channasanga, Do you expect me to regard The anointed worldlings as true devotees? 1 |
| 11 | What if an ass becomes a bhakta, Can it give up eating dirt? What if a cat becomes a bhakta, Can it stop eating rats? What if a pig becomes a bhakta, Will it not eat night-soil? What if a dog becomes a bhakta, Can it stop eating stale meat? 1 | 12 | What if a tick clings to the udder Does it know the taste of milk? What if a bug hugs the body, Does it ever know the pleasures Springing from feminine company? However tall a mule be, Can it ever become a horse? Why, to the lustful, talks of truth? Why, to the worldlings, Shiva's company? Why, to an owl, an emerald temple? Could a landlord's charmaid ever Dare to swear by her husband? Can men of loose conduct, Who descend to deep bell, Worshipping all low deities, Imbibe Shiva's discipline? 1 |
| 13 | Just as a sparrow foolishly Thinks the nest of his neighbour to be his, The fool thinks that all gold Woman and land are his 1 | 14 | A king's devotion was doom'd through pride, A village watchman's was lost in the tip of his sword A merchant's in the neck of a measure A goldsmith's melted in an oven, A puritan's drowned in deep doubts, A magician's in shivering fright, A vow-keeper's in the business of life 1 |
| 15 | A charmaid's friendship Sets one to fetch water and carry dust and dung; Friendship with a harlot Makes one eat orts 1 | 16 | What if you pour sweet water, Can you make the banyan sweet? What if you anoint onion with musk Can you remove its nauseating smell? What if you squeeze a raw fruit, Can its juice match that of a ripe one? 1 |
| 17 | Six leaves in a washerman, And eight leaves in a merchant; It grew into a plant in an adulterer It grew into a tree in a drunkard, And into a massive tree in a gambler; It blossomed in an acrobat And bore fruit in a goldsmith; While growing ripe in a harlot, It reached the dropping point in a king 1 | 18 | People say that water cleanses the world's impurity; Then what can purify water? By mantric words it becomes pure. What kind of a Jangama is he Who wanders with Linga on him Like crores of vachanas being tied to a tree? He is no Jangama at all. Look, how the dogs bark As freely as they like, Boasting before all people, Calling themselve true Prasadis. Does our Lord Kudala Channasanga Like those greedy dogs who do As the herd from a famine-hit land, Who waiting always for a second helping, Asks for more and more food And waste all, eating little. 1 |
| 19 | What more remains there When speech spits out the swallowed ruby, Light spits out hidden darkness And the servant spits out his master whom he has devoured? There is in this communion Sorrow without pain, Meeting without resisting, And rising without setting 1 | 20 | When gross darkness dwells in the mind, How can a curtain conceal it? If one steals the golden mountain And tries to hide it under the earth, Can it remain undetected? O Kudala Channasanga's devotee, Can you hide the bliss born Of merging in our Lord Prabhu 1 |
| 21 | My daily worship consists of The offering of a fresh flower And the waiving of a burning lamp, Before its beauty fades away And its halo is blurred And its flame is put out. Learning, at the time of dinner, The inner wish of the Linga I offer daily dish Made of the milk of Meru cow O Kudala Channasanga Lord! 1 | 22 | Basava himself is an archer With an arrow of fresh devotion. He aimed a shot straight at Linga, Which, piercing the womb of a child, Revealed visions of new worlds; The hunter Basava approached 'The child Kudala Channasanga, And, bathing him in sacred ash, Worshipped the Linga with devotion 1 |
| 23 | To the bow of conduct is tied The string of right thought; By treading on the bow of equality, He produced a clang of harmony; When fixing the arrow of disciple, The Master Hunter aimed a shot Straight at the absolute Linga. It merged into the Linga, tail and all, Without leaving any mark outside. Is it possible to find both The arrow and the target in you, O Kudala Channasanga Lord? 1 | 24 | Look, the body is Shiva's abode. The navel is His lotus seat, The Lord of Life who is riding knowledge Is the God there. There are nine attendants, The master is the Lord of the Swan, Forsaking his duties of Worshipping the temple God, He merged in the Linga itself. O Kudala Channasanga Lord, Being one with Himself He is now carefree. 1 |
| 25 | Dressed in the cloak of equality, With the cap of conscience on, Stepping into the shoes of passion, Without falling into the pit of darkness, Without being stung by the scorpion of pride, Without stumbling over the log Of renunciation on the way, Asking earnestly for alms, Basavanna came to Kappadi, O Lord Kudala Channasanga. 1 | 26 | Cutting the trees of hunger, thirst And passion with the axe of pleasure Heaped together, chopping all Pride, desire, anger, greed, And lust and jealousy; Clearing the plants of the five senses, Six sins, seven elements, And eight kinds of insolence, He started with the bundle of Seven bonds on his back, Riding the horse of lust, desire, jealousy, This great man chased The cattle of anxiety. 1 |
| Sr #` | Reference |
|---|---|
| 1 | [1] Dr. R. G. Hiremath, M. A., Phd. Vice-Chancellor, "SHRI CHANNABASAVESHVARA, Life and Philosophy", 1978, Karnatak University, Dharwad |
