There is a fig tree
In ancient story,
The giant Aswattha
The everlasting,
Rooted in heaven,
Its branches earthward:
Each of its leaves
Is a song of the Vedas,
And he who knows it knows all the Vedas.
Downward and upward
Its branches bending
Are fed by the gunas,
The buds its puts forth
Are the things of the senses,
Roots it has also
Reaching downward
Into this world,
The roots of man’s actions.
What its form is,
Its end and beginning,
Its very nature,
Can never be known here.
From:
The Song Of God: Bhagavad-Gita
Translated by
Swami Prabhavananda and Christopher Isherwood |
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