The Lord of Confluence

I bought 'The Lord of the Meeting Rivers' (K.V.Zvelebil/Motilal Banarsidas) yesterday from a local second hand book shop. There are many 'vacanas' - sayings - of Basava, where he expounds his ideology of the Virashaivas, woven into devotional poetry that is offered to Shiva. The vacanas have no metrical line or stanza, they are uttered 'on the spur of the moment', and are the reflection of spontaneous devotional experience. They have essentially an oral origen and quality to them and are often sung and so may be called songs. In one verse he states:

I know nothing of prosody, of time-beat or of metre,
nor do I know the count of rhythm or of tone.
I don't know this variety of feet or that.

O Lord of Confluence,

since nothing will offend you,
I shall sing to your tune of love.

Basava was a bramin by birth who gave up his brahminhood at an early age tearing off his sacred thread and disregarding wealth and propriety. he left home and came to Kappadi Sangama - the place where two rivers meet. The temple of Kudala Sangamadeva, the Lord of Confluence, was erected at the junction of the rivers Krsna and Malaprabha. There he worshipped Shiva who later appeared in a dream and told him that the next day he would present himself, through the mouth of Nandi. The next day Basava waited, and whilst leaning against Nandi in the temple, Shiva formed a Linga in the heart lotus of Nandi which passed onto Nandi's tongue and dropped into Basava's hand, thus initiating him.

This is Basava's prayer at this time:

"Your wideness is the wideness of the world,
the wideness of the firmament, and wider still.
Your feet go deeper than the underworld,
Your crown is higher than the universe,
You Linga, who are imperceptible, past understanding, unlimited, incomparable.
By coming to the hollow of my hand you shrink to almost nothing.
O Lord of confluence.

The following poems are a random selection from the book:

You can't just do this thing called bhakti.
Like a saw it cuts when it comes, it cuts when goes
Place your hand in a pitcherwith a hooded snake: Won't it bite?

O Lord of the Meeting Rivers
------------
To give me birth, Maya bore me - as mother
To delight me, Maya was born - as my daughter
To embrace me, Maya shared my bed - as my wife
So many different ways she has, Maya, To worry and trouble me!
It's not in my power to unhinge this Maya!
And you are amused,

O Lord of the Meeting Rivers
----------------
Melt my mind, O Lord, and purge its stains,
Test it on the touchstone for its colour, and refine it in fire
Cut it and beat it to pure shining gold,
and hammer from it anklets for the feet of your devotees.

O Lord of the Meeting Rivers
------------------
Come Lord and pour down the nectar of thy name upon me.
until my heart bursts forth
until my mind is drenched
until my tongue reverberates with joy!
Let my heart like a blown bud rest upon the flowers of your holy feet

O Lord of the Meeting Rivers
----------------------
Make of my body, O Lord the pole;
Make of my head the gourd
Of my nerves the strings,
O Lord,Of my fingers the plectrum
Intone your two and thirty notes
and press my heart and play

O Lord of Confluence
--------------------------

I am no worshipper
I am no servant
I am not even a beggar, O Lord
Without your grace
O Shiva
Whenever the maid feels worn out and tired
the mistress of the house does the work
Do it all yourself

O Lord of Confluence
-----------------------

To become a devotee is to surrender one's devotion.
To become a fit man is to surrender one's fitness.
To enter Union is to surrender one's ego.
Self-surrender must be in everything.
The worth of this surrender
The lord of Confluence alone knows.