My Sanskrit class has recently progressed to translating actual stories adapted from Sanskrit literature rather than piles of disconnected sentences. The stories are often interesting and fun; they often involve talking animals who get killed over misunderstandings. (Fun fact of the day: Aesop — whose existence and biographical details are characteristically sketchy for a man of his vintage — may or may not have actually committed his fables to writing, though they floated around Greece until they were recorded, and he must have had distant sources; several of his stories appear to have come from India, and were recorded there in Sanskrit.) Since these stories constitute a not inconsequential fraction of the time I spend reading every week, and since, relative to the time spent on them, they’re quite short (I’m reading them in Sanskrit, after all!), and since I like them quite a lot, I’ll try to post them here. I hope someone else might enjoy them as much as I do.

Since they are rather off-the-cuff translations made in preparation for a language class, they will be overly literal renderings of the Sanskrit, and perhaps sometimes stilted in English; and since they are adapted for students of the language, they will reflect a degree of simplicity early on, and grow more complex. I’ve already done maybe close to a dozen, but I’ll gradually put them here from the beginning, starting with the first three, which are three parts to a single story.

Lesson and page numbers refer to the Killingley text, which is more fully cited in the flash cards post.

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Śakuntalā (or Shakuntalaa), Part 1

There is a brahmin called Kaṇva. Kaṇva reads and teaches Veda. Now, a girl called Śakuntalā lives with Kaṇva as a student. And when Kaṇva teaches, Śakuntalā listens.

One time, Kaṇva goes from the ashram. Now, after that the king rides from the palace in a chariot. And a charioteer goes with the king. Now, a deer* jumps from [behind?] a tree. And when the charioteer sees the deer, the king says, “Do you see the deer?” So the king pursues the deer in the chariot. And when the deer hears the chariot, it is afraid and runs. But the chariot goes like an arrow. The king holds bow and arrow in hand. The deer fears the arrow, but the arrow doesn’t hit the deer. So the deer goes to the ashram.

(Killingley: Lesson 11, page 82)

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Part 2 

Now, Kaṇva doesn’t remain in the ashram but Kaṇva’s student dwells there. When the deer enters into the ashram, it sees the student. The deer fears the king’s arrow. When Kaṇva’s student sees the deer, she says, “Why do you fear?” Then the student hears the king’s chariot. Then she sees the king and charioteer. And when the king sees the brahmin’s student in the ashram, he speaks to the charioteer and descends from the chariot. Then the king bows to the student. The student asks the king, “Why do you pursue the deer like a hunter?” Somehow the student protects the deer from the king. Then the king enters into the ashram.

Now, Śakuntalā remains in the ashram. And when Śakuntalā sees the king, she likes the king. And the king dwells a long time in the ashram with Kaṇva’s student. Sometimes Śakuntalā talks with the king. And out of desire** she remains with the king a long time.

(Killingley: Lesson 12, page 89)

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Part 3

Thereafter Śakuntalā becomes the king’s wife. (Trans.: One assumes this is a euphemism.) Later, the king goes from the ashram to the palace, and Śakuntalā remains in the ashram. Śakuntalā always thinks only of the king.

Now, a traveller comes to the ashram. The traveller is a brahmin. And when the traveller enters the ashram, he asks, “Who’s there?” But because Śakuntalā thinks only of the king, she doesn’t hear the traveller. Then the traveller says, “Why do you not honor a brahmin?” Even now Śakuntalā says nothing. The traveller thinks, “Because the girl out of desire thinks only of a man, therefore she does nothing.” Then out of anger he says, “Because from foolishness you do not honor a brahmin, I pronounce a curse. Now you see a brahmin’s power.”

Later, Śakuntalā leaves the ashram and seeks the king’s palace. And in the palace she seeks the king. When she sees the king, she says, “I am the king’s wife.” But by the curse’s power the king remembers nothing. Then Śakuntalā asks, “O king, you don’t remember?” But even now the king doesn’t remember. Then Śakuntalā remembers the brahmin’s curse. When she sees the curse’s power, she thinks, “What do I do? I am the king’s wife but the king remembers nothing.” Then Śakuntalā goes from the palace.

 (Killingley: Lesson 13, page 97)

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* The word translated here as deer – mṛgaḥ (मृगः) — can refer to any sort of deer, or generically to any wild animal.

** The word translated here (and again below) as desire – kāmaḥ (कामः) – could also be translated as love, though it seems to be a particularly sensual sort, maybe something like eros. It is the same word as in Kama Sutra, and apparently is related through Indo-European root to both whore and caress.

Note from Killingley: “The story continues with the king remembering Śakuntalā later, and eventually finding her after she has borne him a son, Bharata. Bharata becomes the ancestor of the principal heroes of the Mahābhārata.” (Also, his name provides the indigenous name of India; India, which has been used since before Herodotus, apparently comes from Old Persian Hindu, which comes from Sanskrit Sindhu, which names what we call the Indus River.)

Killingley: “This story is told in the Mahābhārata, and in the play Abhijñāna-śākuntala, commonly known as Śakuntalā, by Kālidāsa.” 

(The latter, I hear, was a favorite of Goethe.)