282 దేవ నీవిచ్చేయందుకు దీనికిఁ
గా నింతయేల
(dēva nīviccēyaṃduku dīnikiṃ̐ gā niṃtayēla)
తెలుగులో చదవడానికి ఇక్కడ నొక్కండి.
INTRODUCTION
It is said that
Hanuman once tore open his chest
to reveal Rama and Sita within.
Whether that is literally true, we do not know.
But Annamacharya, in his own way, does something even more striking —
he takes the human mind, lays it bare before us, and says,
“Look, my child — this is your mind.”
The world we live
in —
with its sugar-coated jungle laws and pious pretence —
isn’t it much like cranes waiting for fish
while reciting the Vedas?
That is why Annamacharya asks,
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అధ్యాత్మ కీర్తన
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Philosophical
Poem
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రేకు: 78-3 సంపుటము: 1-372
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Copper Plate: 78-3 Vol: 1-372
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దేవ నీవిచ్చేయందుకు దీనికిఁ గా నింతయేల యేవేళ మా యెరుకలు యెందుకుఁ గొలుపును ॥దేవ॥ యెవ్వరి వసములు బుద్దెరిఁగి నడచేమన యివ్వల నారాయణ నీవియ్యక లేదు దవ్వు చేరువ మనసు తన యిచ్చయితేఁ గనక రవ్వగ మృగాదులెల్ల రాజ్యమేలనేరవా ॥దేవ॥ సారెకు నిన్నుఁ దలపించ జంతువుల వసమా కేరి నీవు జిహ్వఁ బరికించఁగాఁ గాక యీరీతి లోకమెల్లాఁ దమ యిచ్చ కొలఁదుల నయితే దూరానఁ గొక్కెరలు చదవవా వేదాలు ॥దేవ॥ యిందరి పాపపుణ్యాలు యిన్నియు నీ చేఁతలే కుందవ స్వతంత్రులు గారు గాన చందపు శ్రీవేంకటేశ శరణంటి నిదె నీకు చెంది నీవే కాతుగాక చేఁతలూనువలెనా ॥దేవ॥
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dēva nīviccēyaṃduku dīnikiṃ̐ gā niṃtayēla
yēvēḻa mā yerukalu yeṃdukuṃ̐ golupunu ॥dēva॥ yevvari vasamulu budderiṃ̐gi naḍacēmana yivvala nārāyaṇa nīviyyaka lēdu davvu cēruva manasu tana yiccayitēṃ̐ ganaka ravvaga mṛgādulella rājyamēlanēravā ॥dēva॥ sāreku ninnuṃ̐ dalapiṃca jaṃtuvula vasamā kēri nīvu jihvaṃ̐ barikiṃcaṃ̐gāṃ̐ gāka yīrīti lōkamellāṃ̐ dama yicca kolaṃ̐dula nayitē dūrānaṃ̐ gokkeralu cadavavā vēdālu ॥dēva॥ yiṃdari pāpapuṇyālu yinniyu nī cēṃ̐talē kuṃdava svataṃtrulu gāru gāna caṃdapu śrīvēṃkaṭēśa śaraṇaṃṭi nide nīku ceṃdi nīvē kātugāka cēṃ̐talūnuvalenā ॥dēva॥
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Details and Discussions:
Chorus
(Pallavi):
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Telugu
Phrase
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Meaning
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దేవ నీవిచ్చేయందుకు దీనికిఁ గా నింతయేల
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O Lord! everything has to be accorded by you. For that why should
I make effort.
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యేవేళ మా యెరుకలు యెందుకుఁ గొలుపును
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For our present
knowledge and memories, they are of no use at any point of time.
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Literal Meaning:
O Lord! If liberation is Yours to bestow, why should man struggle so much for it? O Man! Of what use are our present knowledge and memories?
(O Lord! If liberation is to be granted
by You, then why must human beings labour and strive for it? The knowledge and
memories we possess today —they can never be adequate or reliable guides on that path.)
Interpretative Notes:
దేవ నీవిచ్చేయందుకు దీనికిఁ గా నింతయేల
“If freedom is granted only by You, O Lord, why must man toil and strive for it? This recalls Jiddu Krishnamurti’s words: “It is not your effort— but the truth itself sets you free.” Here, Annamacharya speaks not with resignation but with clarity — like a yogi resting in stillness. He points out that liberation (mukti) is not a human achievement but a divine gift.
యేవేళ మా యెరుకలు యెందుకుఁ గొలుపును
The principal point is “How can our present knowledge and memories ever guide us rightly?” Our accumulated knowledge and memories, far from leading us there, actually stand in the way. Like blind men touching different parts of an elephant — one calling it a wall, another a pillar, another a fan — our fragmentary knowledge mistakes parts for the whole, illusion for truth. Thus, our learning becomes our blindness.
Man has no part in achieving liberation,
yet one duty remains — to remove what obstructs it movement. Freedom does not
come from effort but from the cessation of interference. Not knowing what binds
and what frees, we cling to knowledge and memory — and call it seeking. Annamacharya
calls this ignorance. Thus, he reminds us: Knowledge and memory are not
bridges to freedom — only undivided surrender is.
Parallel with The Song of Love
Let us understand the meaning of the Pallavi thru a beautiful surreal painting “The Song of Love”, created by the renowned artist Giorgio de Chirico in 1914, has remained a question in the minds of viewers ever since.
In it, we see a Roman street corner. upon a large wall hangs a classical Greek or Roman sculpture — beside it, a glove; and near the wall, a green ball rests vividly in the light. In the background, a train seems to pass by. The shadows in the painting are long and intense; the direction of light is uncertain. Altogether, it feels like a collection of unrelated emotions — fragments that do not quite belong together.
The Greek sculpture may represent
the past — the ideals and values of an ancient world now gone. The glove,
hanging beside it, may symbolize industrial progress, the spirit of
manufacture and modern mind shaped by consumption. The green ball evokes
playfulness, leisure, and the lighter moods of human life. The elongated
shadows suggest an unknown fear, while the train in the distance
speaks of time moving on, unstoppable. The Roman buildings stand
as symbols of the structures and traditions we have inherited —
foundations we rarely question, yet treat as truth.
Altogether, the painting weaves opposing symbols to evoke a deep sense of unease and solitude within the human mind.
Viewed alongside Annamacharya’s pallavi —
“Yevvēla mā yerukalu yendukuŋ golupunu?” (“Of what use are our present
knowledge and memories?”) — the painting seems to mirror the same truth: our
entire life is built upon unquestioned foundations, a measure of
restlessness, a voyage in a fragile boat steered by the sense of
insecurity born of uncertainty. In such a voyage, we begin to realize how
unreliable our knowledge truly is.
Deeper meaning of the Painting:
“The Song of Love”
The mind rejects the conflicting images
it perceives —
Remember — dreams are not only what visit
us at night;
every perception that cannot grasp truth or reality
is itself a dream.
The human mind is like a box
with its contents scattered and mixed in disarray.
Meditation is the process by which
this inner disorder is quietly set right.
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Telugu
Phrase
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Meaning
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యెవ్వరి వసములు బుద్దెరిఁగి నడచేమన
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Who can control his mind (in this world) and walk according
to it? (none)
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యివ్వల నారాయణ నీవియ్యక లేదు
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O Lord Narayana! Without you imparting that wisdom, we
ourselves cannot climb to it.
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దవ్వు చేరువ మనసు తన యిచ్చయితేఁ గనక
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if man can decide whether
they are close or far from the Lord
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రవ్వగ మృగాదులెల్ల రాజ్యమేలనేరవా
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If so, will not the world become rule of the Jungle?
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Literal Meaning:
How can I, O Lord, walk with wisdom in
this world? Unless You grant true discernment, O Nārāyaṇa, we remain caught in
ignorance. If nearness or distance from You rests on human will, then surely
even beasts would be fit to rule the world. (will not the world become rule of
the Jungle?)
Interpretative
Notes:
What he saw then, we still see now.
In a so-called civilized world,
Even
the systems we call just — banks, courts, institutions —
favour the powerful and burden the poor.
This is not political complaint — it is
spiritual diagnosis.
When intelligence is divorced from grace,
it becomes cunning, not wisdom.
When the mind claims sovereignty,
life becomes a forest ruled by instincts and greed.
So the poet turns inward:
“Who can walk wisely by his own power?
Who can judge rightly without the light of the Lord?”
Without divine illumination, our
discernment itself betrays us.
If nearness to God were left to our own choosing,
the world would indeed belong to beasts.
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Telugu
Phrase
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Meaning
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సారెకు నిన్నుఁ దలపించ జంతువుల వసమా
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How can
creatures like us remember YOU every moment?
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కేరి నీవు జిహ్వఁ బరికించఁగాఁ గాక
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(కేరి
= వీధి, సందు, narrow alley) in that narrow
passage, because of your touch and grace, I am able to remember you.
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యీరీతి లోకమెల్లాఁ దమ యిచ్చ కొలఁదుల నయితే
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If the world
were allowed to run after its own desires;
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దూరానఁ గొక్కెరలు చదవవా వేదాలు
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then even the
cranes afar would be seen chanting the Vedas.
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Literal Meaning:
How can creatures like us remember YOU
every moment? Unless You Yourself, O Narayana, touch our tongue tenderly in
that narrow passage, how can we even utter Your name? If the world were allowed
to run after its own desires; then even the cranes afar would be seen chanting
the Vedas.
Interpretative Notes:
కేరి నీవు జిహ్వఁ బరికించఁగాఁ గాక
How can beings like us, driven by instincts and distractions, constantly dwell upon the Lord? It is not by our effort or discipline that remembrance happens—it is by Your Grace alone. When You, Lord, gently touch our tongue in that narrow inner passage, that subtle corridor of consciousness, only then does devotion awaken.
The word కేరి kēri—a narrow alley—suggests the path inward, not outward. It is the corridor between Death (क्षयम्) and Life (अक्षयम्) Or between the finite and the eternal. The Kathopanishad (1-3-14) says: क्षुरस्य धारा निशिता दुरत्यया। “The path is sharp as a razor’s edge, difficult to traverse.” Likewise, the Bible echoes: “Narrow is the gate that leads to life, and few find it.” This is not a path of pilgrimage through the world but a descent into the heart—where pride, self-will, and attachment cannot pass. Only those who have known surrender can enter that silence.
When Annamacharya says “You touched my
tongue and tested it with love,” he reveals a moment of divine contact—the
grace that transforms mere speech into remembrance. The act of remembering God
is not an achievement; it is a response to that touch.
దూరానఁ గొక్కెరలు చదవవా వేదాలు
Then comes the poet’s piercing irony: “If everyone in this world were allowed to follow their own will, then even the cranes would chant the Vedas.” It is not a mockery of the sacred, but of its hollow imitation. When order is dictated by human ego, chaos takes the throne. When everyone claims the right to define righteousness, the very language of truth becomes parody.
Look around today—the prophecy stands fulfilled. Every leader swears by peace, but sows division. Every assembly proclaims righteousness, but tramples it the next moment. The lips chant of dharma; the hands destroy it. The world burns, not because of God’s indifference, but because of human arrogance.
Annamacharya foresaw this centuries ago.
His line “even cranes may chant the Vedas” is not satire—it is
revelation. It reminds us that when the inner path (kēri) is lost, all
learning becomes noise, all rituals become mimicry, and all speech about virtue
becomes deceit.
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Telugu
Phrase
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Meaning
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యిందరి పాపపుణ్యాలు యిన్నియు నీ చేఁతలే
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ఈ ప్రపంచములోని
వారందరి పాపపుణ్యములు నీ మూలముననే జరుగుతున్నాయి
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కుందవ స్వతంత్రులు
గారు గాన
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(కుందవ = బండి
చక్రములా తిరుగు, rotating like the eye of a cart) They
are not truly independent — merely revolving like the wheels of a cart.
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చందపు శ్రీవేంకటేశ శరణంటి నిదె నీకు
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O beautiful Lord
Venkatesha, You alone are the shelter and the rest.
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చెంది నీవే కాతుగాక
చేఁతలూనువలెనా
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You Yourself are my
refuge —should I raise my hands to pray anymore?
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Literal Meaning:
All the deeds of this world — whether good or
evil — happen through YOU alone. Human beings, like the turning wheels of a
cart, have no real independence. O graceful Venkatesha! You Yourself are the
refuge. Why then should I lift my hands in plea? No need. You already dwell
within me.
Interpretative notes:
Here, Annamacharya reminds us of the cycle
of life —
moving endlessly between birth and death,
while man imagines himself to be free.
But in Annamacharya’s vision,
the wheel does not turn by itself —
it is moved by an unseen, unknowable Power.
When
he says “Yindari pāpapuṇyālu nī chētalē” —
“All merits and sins are by Your hands” —
Annamacharya is revealing a perspective that
“differentiating
between Papa and Punya is the seed of
duality”
This is the heart of the Life-Death cycle —
the symbol of non-independence
The human feeling of “I did it”
is the very root of bondage.
Only one who sees the unity
of the seer, the seeing, and the seen
stands still — in silence.
To see the wheel turning
is to stand as a witness —
where time appears to move.
But in the state where
the seer, the seeing, and the seen are one,
even the sense of movement disappears;
there, time ceases to exist.
When Annamacharya says,
“Why should I lift my hands?” —
he implies that even prayer as a plea is unnecessary.
Seeking refuge itself is an illusion of separation.
True independence begins
only when there is no need to ask;
yet that independence
is realized through surrender.
This is a subtle paradox —
for here, surrender is not to another,
but to one’s own purified Self.
When all inner impurities dissolve,
the boundary between man and the world vanishes.
In that state, even the sense of “I” is gone.
Hence Annamacharya calls that
Self-realized being Divine —
not out of ego, but as an expression of truth.
Final Reflection:
In this world, only one is truly free
— the Divine.
All others exist either
within the motion of the world’s wheel caught in the web of karma
OR in the stillness of surrender, as state of inner bliss.
Central
Message of this poem:
Annamacharya’s message is worthy of
contemplation
“It is not your effort— but the clarity
in the mind sets you free.”
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