great fathers--in his glory equalled he,
In his might and kingly power--Manu, and in earthly bliss,
And in wonder-working penance--sire and grandsire far surpassed.
With his arms on high outstretching--wrought the sovereign of men,
Steadily on one foot standing--penance rigorous and dread,
With his downward head low-drooping--with his fixed, unwavering eyes,
Dreed he thus his awful penance--many a long and weary year.
To the penitent with tresses--streaming loose, and wet, and long,
By the margin of Wirini--thus the fish began to speak:
"Blessed! lo, the least of fishes--of the mighty fish in dread,
Wilt thou not from death preserve me--thou that all thy vows fulfill'st?
Since the strongest of the fishes--persecute the weaker still,
Over us impends for ever--our inevitable fate.
Ere I sink, if thou wilt free me--from th' extremity of dread,
Meet return can I compensate--when the holy deed is done."
Speaking thus the fish when heard he--full of pity all his heart,
In his hand that fish king Manu--son of Vivaswata took.
Brought the son of Vivaswata--to the river shore the fish,
Cast it in a crystal vessel--like the moonshine clear and bright.
"Rapid grew that fish, O raja--tended with such duteous care,
Cleaved to him the heart of Manu--as to a beloved son.
Time rolled on, and larger, larger--ever waxed that wonderous fish,
Nor within that crystal vessel--found he longer space to move."
Spake again the fish to Manu--as he saw him, thus he spake:
"O all prosperous! O all gentle!--bring me to another place."
Then the fish from out the vessel--blessed Manu took again;
And with gentle speed he bare him,--Manu, to a spacious lake.
There the conqueror of cities,--mighty Manu, cast him in.
Still he grew, that fish so wondrous--many a circling round of years.
Three miles long that lake expanded--and a single mile its breadth,
Yet that fish with eyes like lotus--there no longer might endure;
Nor, O sovereign of the Vaisyas!--might that lake his bulk contain.
Spake again that fish to Manu--as he saw him, thus he spake:
"Bring me now, O blest and holy!--to the Ganga, ocean's bride,
Let me dwell in her wide waters--yet, O loved one, as thou wilt,
Be it so; whate'er thy bidding,--murmur would beseem me ill,
Since through thee, O blest and blameless!--to this wondrous bulk I've
grow