The great poet Ganga was a court-poet of Emperor Akbar. All the other poets in Akbar’s court used to sing paeans for Akbar. But Ganga was a fearless poet. His poems were full of devotion to the Lord. He never recited a poem in praise of Akbar, which didn’t go well with the king.
Once Akbar reproached Ganga in the open court, “O great poet! You have delighted me by reciting excellent spiritual poems from time to time. But you have never recited a poem in the praise of me. I am the king, the benefactor of all. I can make anybody rich and prosperous and can destroy anybody if I so decided. Please write a poem with the ending, ‘….all should pray to Akbar to satisfy their desire.’’’
Akbar had made it clear that the poem should be in his praise. Those jealous of Ganga were greatly pleased within. The poet Ganga composed a short poem then and there and recited it in the open court:
Once Akbar reproached Ganga in the open court, “O great poet! You have delighted me by reciting excellent spiritual poems from time to time. But you have never recited a poem in the praise of me. I am the king, the benefactor of all. I can make anybody rich and prosperous and can destroy anybody if I so decided. Please write a poem with the ending, ‘….all should pray to Akbar to satisfy their desire.’’’
Akbar had made it clear that the poem should be in his praise. Those jealous of Ganga were greatly pleased within. The poet Ganga composed a short poem then and there and recited it in the open court:
‘One who sings praises of another,
forgetting the one God,
the tongue of that prattler
should be cut off.
The world today crawls to the king
to get a gift from Akbar.
Ganga is the devotee of
Lord Krishna alone,
and therefore is not afraid of any king.
Those who don’t have
trust in Lord Krishna,
they all should pray to Akbar
to satisfy their desires.’
forgetting the one God,
the tongue of that prattler
should be cut off.
The world today crawls to the king
to get a gift from Akbar.
Ganga is the devotee of
Lord Krishna alone,
and therefore is not afraid of any king.
Those who don’t have
trust in Lord Krishna,
they all should pray to Akbar
to satisfy their desires.’
As he heard these words, Akbar flew into a rage. He said, “You will pay dearly for this affront.’’
The great poet retorted fearlessly:
The great poet retorted fearlessly:
‘Lord Krishna is a horse,
you are a donkey.
I have said what I wanted to,
do whatever you can.’
you are a donkey.
I have said what I wanted to,
do whatever you can.’
Fining this golden opportunity, the sycophants added fuel to the fire. The emperor pronounced the judgment, “Let the poet Ganga be trampled to death under the feet of an elephant!”
He was brought in front of an elephant. Proceeding towards the elephant unconcerned and in a jubilant mood, he said:
‘The spineless can never go to the battled field like a hero, nor can they ever win. (That is only the fearless and brave people can fight battles and assert the truth.) I bless all the courtiers and take leave.’
Thus he was trampled under an elephant’s feet and departed from the world remembering Lord Krishna. The fire of Akbar’s anger was not cooled even with this. He ordered the whole family of the poet Ganga to be trampled under the elephant’s feet.
After a few years, Akbar found a poem written by Ganga:
He was brought in front of an elephant. Proceeding towards the elephant unconcerned and in a jubilant mood, he said:
‘The spineless can never go to the battled field like a hero, nor can they ever win. (That is only the fearless and brave people can fight battles and assert the truth.) I bless all the courtiers and take leave.’
Thus he was trampled under an elephant’s feet and departed from the world remembering Lord Krishna. The fire of Akbar’s anger was not cooled even with this. He ordered the whole family of the poet Ganga to be trampled under the elephant’s feet.
After a few years, Akbar found a poem written by Ganga:
‘A Dumb fellow can not
understand a profound utterance.
A she-buffalo doesn’t care
whose fields she is grazing on.
Listen King Akbar,
says the poet Ganga.
An ass doesn’t know the worth of the
water of the holy Ganga.’
understand a profound utterance.
A she-buffalo doesn’t care
whose fields she is grazing on.
Listen King Akbar,
says the poet Ganga.
An ass doesn’t know the worth of the
water of the holy Ganga.’
As he read this verse, Akbar was regretful for he had killed a great poet and devotee of the Lord.
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