MANU SMRTI 6.92: TEN COMPONENTS OF DHARMA [ दशकं धर्म लक्षणं ]

2017 1029 44  Manu Smriti 6.92: The Ten Components of Dharma [ दशकं धर्म लक्षणं ]

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Manu Smriti [6.92] defines the Ten Components of Dharma thus:

धृतिः क्षमा दमः अस्तेयं  शौचं इन्द्रिय निग्रहः   | 
धीः विद्या सत्यं अक्रोधः दशकं धर्म लक्षणं      ||   6.92


The ten components of Dharma [ दशकं धर्म लक्षणं ] are:

1]  धृतिः  firmness
2]  क्षमा  patience
3]  दमः   self-control
4]  अस्तेयं  non-stealing
5]  शौचं   purity, internal and external
6]  इन्द्रिय निग्रहः control of the senses
7]  धीः  strength of mind
8]  विद्या  wisdom
9]  सत्यं   truthfulness and
10]  अक्रोधः  absence of anger

All -- refers to all the four orders [namely, student, householder, hermit and ascetic].

Full text of Manu Smriti in Sanskrit with English Translation: [Click Here]

                                     

POEMS THAT TOUCH THE HEART: GOD IS NOT FAR FROM ANY ONE OF US

2017 1015 43  Poems that touch the heart:  God is not far from any of us

1 God is not far from any one of us:
The wild flower by the wayside speaks His love;
Each blithesome bird bears tidings from above;
Sunshine and shower His tender mercies prove,
And men know not His voice!


2 God is not far from any one of us:
He speaks to us in every glad sunrise;
His glory floods us from the noonday skies;
The stars declare His love when daylight dies,
And men know not His voice!

3 God is not far from any one of us:
He watches o'er his children day and night;
On every darkened soul He sheds His light;
Each burdened heart He cheers, and lends His might
To all who know His voice.

Amen.

                                           Thomas Curtis Clark [1877-1953]

POEMS THAT TOUCH THE HEART: I AM STILL RICH

2017 1022  42  Poems that touch the heart:  I am still rich

I am still rich.
The morning comes with old-time cheer;
The sun breaks through the blurring mist;
And all the sorrows of the night
By newborn rays of hope are kissed.
Up and rejoice! a spirit cries,
What is your loss with morning skies!

I am still rich.
My friends are faithful, as of old;
They trust me past my poor dessert.
They ask no gift of golden gain,
But only love. With their strength girt,
Can I not face the road ahead --
Though some old treasured joys are dead!

I am still rich.
I have my work, which constant calls;
I could not loiter, if I would;
Each moment has some task to speed,
Some work to do. How kind, how good
Is life that God now grants to me --
A segment of Eternity!

                                      Thomas Curtis Clark [1877-1953]

POEMS THAT TOUCH THE HEART: ONLY A SOLDIER! ANONYMOUS

2017 1008 41 Poems that touch the heart: Only A Soldier!  Anonymous

UNARMED and unattended walks the Czar, 

Through Moscow's busy street one winter's day..
The crowd uncover as his face they see,- "
God greet the Czar !" they say.

Along his path there moved a funeral,
Grey spectacle of poverty and woe.
A wretched sledge, dragged by one weary man,
Slowly across the snow.

And on the sledge, blown by the winter wind,
Lay a poor coffin, very rude and bare.
And he who drew it bent before his load,
With dull and sullen air.

The Emperor stopped and beckoned to the man ;
"Who is't thou bearest to the grave ?" he said..
"Only a soldier, Sire !" the short reply.
"Only a soldier, dead."

"Only a soldier !" musing, said the Czar ; "
Only a Russian, who was poor and brave..
Move on. I follow. Such an one goes not
Unhonoured to his grave."

He bent his head, and silent raised his cap;
The Czar of all the Russias, pacing slow,.
Following the coffin, as again it went,
Slowly across the snow.

The passers of the street, all wondering,
Looked on that sight, then followed silently
Peasant and prince, and artisan and clerk,
All in one company.

Still, as they went, the crowd grew ever more,
Till thousands stood around the friendless grave,.
Led by that princely heart, who, royal, true,
Honoured the poor and brave.

POEMS THAT TOUCH THE HEART: SOMEBODY'S MOTHER :

2017 1001 40  Poems that touch the heart: Somebody's Mother 

by Mabel Down Northam Brine [1816-1913] : An American Poet

Somebody's Mother

And "somebody's mother" bowed low her head

The woman was old and ragged and gray
And bent with the chill of the Winter's day.

The street was wet with a recent snow
And the woman's feet were aged and slow.

She stood at the crossing and waited long,
Alone, uncared for, amid the throng

Of human beings who passed her by
Nor heeded the glance of her anxious eyes.

Down the street, with laughter and shout,
Glad in the freedom of "school let out,"

Came the boys like a flock of sheep,
Hailing the snow piled white and deep.

Past the woman so old and gray
Hastened the children on their way.

Nor offered a helping hand to her —
So meek, so timid, afraid to stir

Lest the carriage wheels or the horses' feet
Should crowd her down in the slippery street.

At last came one of the merry troop,
The gayest laddie of all the group:

He paused beside her and whispered low,
"I'll help you cross, if you wish to go."

Her aged hand on his strong young arm
She placed, and so, without hurt or harm,

He guided the trembling feet along,
Proud that his own were firm and strong.

Then back again to his friends he went,
His young heart happy and well content.

"She's somebody's mother, boys, you know,
For all she's aged and poor and slow.

"And I hope some fellow will lend a hand
To help my mother, you understand,

"If ever she's poor and old and gray,
When her own dear boy is far away."

And "somebody's mother" bowed low her head
In her home that night, and the prayer she said

Was "God be kind to the noble boy,
Who is somebody's son, and pride and joy!"


by Mabel Down Northam Brine [1816-1913]

[See also "Abu Ben Adhem" by Leigh Hunt uploaded on June 26, 2016]