245 ఏ కాలమేది దనకెట్ల సుఖమైయుండు
(E kAlamEdi danakeTla sukhamaiyuMDu)
తెలుగులో చదవడానికి ఇక్కడ నొక్కండి.
The gardens of the
five elements
bloom, eternal and un-decaying;
within the stream of time,
their paths stand as silent wonders.
Yet that stream grants
no true gain,
life does not endure, hope never dies—
it only drawn deeper
into the web of illusion.
Introduction
In this kirtana, Annamacharya takes on
the form of the nāyikā—
longing for the right time to unite with the Divine.
But here, it is the Lord appears querying,
“What are you waiting for?”
The yearning of her heart,
the restlessness of her thoughts,
are already known to Him.
In the verses, Annamacharya reveals
the mind of this nāyikā as if he is an
outsider.
When he says, “kovilala kootalaku gopinchavalase”—
it hints at the anger that arises at the wrong time.
And when he says, “chaligaali yendanu
chu jaalibadavalane”—
he exposes the contradictory emotions
particularly self-pity
that constantly arise in human beings.
Analysis of the Kirtana’s aesthetic experience:
This kīrtana can primarily be
understood as a work of suggestive poetry (dhvani kāvya). Nothing
here is stated outright; everything is hinted at and left for the listener to
perceive. The entire theme of the composition feels indirect, pointing toward a
deeper, implied meaning.
If we consider the underlying sthāyī bhāva (dominant emotion) to be detachment
(vairāgya), then the primary rasa of the piece is śānta rasa,
the rasa of serene transcendence.
Here, śṛṅgāra rasa (the mood of love) is used as an anga-rasa, an auxiliary emotion, to bring in beauty and intimacy. This is a very subtle and uncommon process.
Usually, anga-rasas for śānta rasa are hāsya (humor) or vīra (chivalric). But in this kīrtana, śṛṅgāra itself is used as an anga-rasa for śānta, which is extremely rare and difficult to balance.
Since such poetry is layered and not
easily understood, this kīrtana may be compared to a NarikeLa pAkam (नारिकेलम् , = tough nut to crack)— to taste
the inner sweetness, one must first break through the hard outer shell.
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శృంగార కీర్తన |
Romantic Poem |
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రేకు:
74-3 సంపుటము: 5-255 |
Copper Plate: 74-2 Volume: 5-255 |
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ఏ కాలమేది దనకెట్ల సుఖమైయుండు -
నా కాలవశతఁ దానట్లుండవలనె ॥పల్లవి॥ బలువియోగాగ్ని దలఁపంగ నెట్టిదొకాని
చలిగాలి యెండనుచు జాలిఁ బడవలనె
వలరాజుకోపమెటువంటిదో పడఁతులకు
తలిరాకు చేఁదనుచుఁ దలపోయవలనె ॥ఏకా॥ భావంబు తలపోఁత బలిమెట్టిదోకాని
నోవి దోఁపనిచోట నొచ్చెననవలనె
ఈ విరహపరితాపమిఁకనెట్టిదో కాని
కోవిలల కూఁతలకుఁ గోపించవలనె ॥ఏకా॥ తిరువేంకటేశుకృప తియ్యమెట్టిదొ కాని
చిరునవ్వు మోవిపైఁ జెరలాడవలనె
సురతసౌభాగ్యముల సొంపులెట్టివొ కాని
మురిపెంపుఁ గనుచూపు
ముయ్యఁగావలనె ॥ఏకా॥
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E kAlamEdi danakeTla
sukhamaiyuMDu -
nA kAlavaSata
dAnaTluMDavalane ॥pallavi॥ baluviyOgAgni
dalapaMga neTTidokAni
chaligAli yeMDanuchu
jAli baDavalane
valarAjukOpameTuvaMTidO
paDatulaku
talirAku chEdanuchu
dalapOyavalane ॥EkA॥ bhAvaMbu talapOta
balimeTTidOkAni
nOvi dOpanichOTa
nochchenanavalane
I
virahaparitApamikaneTTidO kAni
kOvilala kUtalaku
gOpiMchavalane ॥EkA॥ tiruvEMkaTESukRpa
tiyyameTTido kAni
chirunavvu mOvipai
jeralADavalane
suratasaubhAgyamula
soMpuleTTivo kAni
muripeMpu ganuchUpu
muyyagAvalane ॥EkA॥
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Details and Explanation:
Chorus
(Pallavi):
|
Telugu Phrase |
Meaning |
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ఏ కాలమేది |
What times are these? |
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దనకెట్ల సుఖమైయుండు |
How do you know that it will be comfortable to you? |
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నా కాలవశతఁ దానట్లుండవలనె |
You, according to the
ensuing times, must adjust to their dictates. |
Literal Meaning:
Commentary:
Part 1:
The Pallavi reflects on the very nature
of time.
Time is not something that springs
from a specific point—
it has no proven beginning,
nor any foreseeable end.
It is simply an endless flow.
What we call God or the Divine
does not belong to this flow.
It belongs to the timeless state—
beyond past, present, and future.
But we mortals, bound by this material
body,
become entangled with time.
When awareness awakens within matter,
we begin to sense time ticking away.
This is not a “new beginning,”
but merely an awareness of limitation.
And all our efforts, all our waiting,
are rooted in this very movement of time.
Hence, no matter how long we wait for a “better time,”
that waiting itself is a trap—
because the Divine cannot be reached through time-bound effort.
So, what remains?
It is clear from the Pallavi that
Annamacharya is directly hinting:
longing for a “good time” is a delusion—
there is no better time than now.
Part 2:
In the Bhagavad Gītā, Krishna makes it
clear:
Purport: “The Lord does not create in people the sense of doership, nor does He initiate their actions or connect them with the fruits. All this unfolds through svabhāva—the nature of material existence.”
This means the Divine is not sitting as a timekeeper, arranging good and bad times, nor handing out rewards and punishments. What we call time and its endless shifts—pleasure and pain, gain and loss—are simply the natural movement of prakṛti, the material field governed by its own laws.
The mind, caught in this movement, imagines, “If I wait, a better time will come. God will make it easier.” But Krishna points out that such hope is misplaced. The Lord is akartā, untouched by the play of guṇas (material qualities). The flow of time and the fruits of action are self-operating within nature.
Thus, waiting for a “good” time is a
misunderstanding. Time has no ultimate beginning or end, nor does it guarantee
happiness. The Divine belongs to a timeless state, beyond all this. To reach
that, one cannot rely on time-bound effort or anticipation.
First Stanza:
|
Telugu Phrase |
Meaning |
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బలువియోగాగ్ని దలఁపంగ నెట్టిదొకాని |
When I reflect on the many fires of separation from You, I cannot
endure them. |
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చలిగాలి యెండనుచు జాలిఁ బడవలనె |
Even the cool breeze feels like the burning midday sun. |
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వలరాజుకోపమెటువంటిదో పడఁతులకు |
I cannot imagine the moon itself turning in anger—yet for us lovers, |
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తలిరాకు చేఁదనుచుఁ దలపోయవలనె |
even the tender sweetness of new leaves turns bitter. |
O Lord!
Hoping for a moment of joy, I loved You—
yet what You gave
were only the fierce, inexpressible flames of parting.
Even the cool breeze burns like fire,
and I am left to pity myself.
If even the moon can turn in anger,
how it must scorch
the softest beloved!
Sweet new leaves taste bitter now.
Tell me…
was loving You my only sin?
Commentary:
To
feel this, closely observe the surreal painting The Flash by René
Magritte.
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Bouquet of Mirage
We see a graceful vase placed on a dark
table in a dimly lit room, creating a deep contrast. Yet, the vase isn’t
solid—it is merely an outline cutout. Through this hollow shape, the bright
blue sky and sunlit outdoors form the silhouette of a lush blooming plant. The
tiny blossoms, glowing in sunlight, appear as though they belong to the vase,
but they are actually outside, beyond the wall. The richness of the flowering
branches is heightened by golden sunlight, blending illusion and reality.
“బలువియోగాగ్ని దలఁపంగ నెట్టిదొకాని”
“The inexpressible fire of separation”
This is how separation feels—
soft, delicate, beautiful on the surface,
yet its very edges hint at a vast emptiness.
What seems whole is only a void revealing another world.
The bouquet—soft, delicate, beautiful,
yet edged with a hollow that cannot be filled.
Those very edges are like the justifications we weave for life—
our deceptions, our attachments, our nourishments, our burdens.
Our love too—
at first, it feels fragrant,
then it grows into nurtured affection,
but with the passage of time it turns hollow,
and sweet, tender leaves turn bitter.
What the heart embraces
slips away, turning against itself.
In the end, the heart quietly asks—
“Was it wrong to love you?”
Yet the beauty of that bouquet still
remains,
untouched, unscattered—it will never fade.
Now that feeling
flows beyond all boundaries, filling inside and out.
But if you try to keep it to yourself,
confined within a single room,
that beauty disappears.
Second Stanza:
|
పదబంధం (Phrase) |
అర్థం (Telugu) |
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భావంబు తలపోఁత బలిమెట్టిదోకాని |
“I cannot fathom the weight of those emotions” |
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నోవి దోఁపనిచోట నొచ్చెననవలనె |
“Pains even in places where no pain should exist” (captures the subtle
inexplicable hurt). |
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ఈ విరహపరితాపమిఁకనెట్టిదో కాని |
Unable to describe the pain of separation from him |
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కోవిలల కూఁతలకుఁ
గోపించవలనె |
“Even the sweet calls of the koel… I find myself angry at their song”
(shows how sweetness turns bitter). |
Literal Meaning:
I cannot measure the weight of the feelings
that arise when I think of Him,
but pain crept into untouched corners
where it had never been before.
I cannot describe
the burning heat of this separation,
but the koel’s song—
usually so sweet—
only deepened the longing,
wounding the heart so deeply
that even their melody stirred anger.
Commentary:
Annamacharya deepens the pain of
separation—
it spills over,
making even sweet and comforting things
feel unbearable.
This viraha is not just a devotee’s ache;
it reflects a truth we all live.
In worldly life, too,
we struggle for meaning,
raising the bar of desire higher and higher,
only to find the pursuit hollow.
But there is a difference—
worldly dissatisfaction drains us,
while divine longing refines us.
Viraha burns,
but it purifies,
turning even the koel’s sweet call
into a sharper reminder of the Beloved’s absence.
Third Stanza:
|
Telugu Phrase |
Meaning |
|
తిరువేంకటేశుకృప తియ్యమెట్టిదొ కాని |
I cannot know how sweet the grace of Venkatesha truly is |
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చిరునవ్వు మోవిపైఁ జెరలాడవలనె |
but involuntarily a gentle smile played upon my lips |
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సురతసౌభాగ్యముల సొంపులెట్టివొ కాని |
I cannot describe the skills, beauty, and joy of a loving union |
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మురిపెంపుఁ గనుచూపు ముయ్యఁగావలనె |
but those tender kisses made my eyes close in blissful surrender |
Literal Meaning:
I cannot truly know how sweet the grace
of Lord Venkatesha is,
but a soft smile danced upon my lips.
I do not know the full charm, beauty, and
delight of intimate union,
but those sweet caresses made my eyes close naturally.
The sweetness of Venkatesha’s grace is beyond
words.
When that compassion touched me,
the lines between ‘this is me’ and ‘that is outside’ dissolved.
It was not the craft of sensual pleasure,
but the sweetness of melting in total self-surrender.
Was it bliss? Was it peace? Was it joy?—I cannot tell.
It overflowed like waves,
and a smile, unbidden, simply floated on my lips.
In that moment—like the meeting of eternal ages—
the sense of ‘I’ disappeared.
The world, myself, and the Divine became one.
There was no awareness of anything outside,
and my eyes closed naturally.
Commentary:
mādhurya
bhakti and śānta rasa—
the serene sweetness of divine union.
This
is not sensuality for its own sake.
It is a poetic bridge,
connecting the familiar worldly experience
to the boundless joy of the Eternal Beloved.
SYNOPSIS of the POEM
Waiting for a “better time” is the
illusion—
Truth lies in this very moment.
In separation, even coolness burns,
and sweetness turns bitter.
Even the koel’s song becomes a wound,
pain creeps into untouched corners.
At last, by Venkatesha’s grace,
the borders of ‘I’ and ‘world’ dissolve.
What seems like śṛṅgāra on the
surface,
behind its veil, śānta rasa remains the essence.
X-X-The
END-X-X
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