Arivu: Knowledge

This which is known here, is none other

On reflection, knowledge it becomes;

As knowledge is one with this ever,

Naught else there is but knowledge alone.

Without knowledge this could not be,

Even granting the known to have reality;

Should but this one knowledge be wanting

What knowing could there be for knowledge;

           

none such we can know.

Beyond the measure of knowledge,

whatever we can know

As knowledge even that too shines;

As within consciousness here, dream abides,

So comprised in knowledge is all that is there.

If knowledge be all-filling,

Non-knowledge, where could it abide?

Going after knowledge from here,

As knowing that there; where could it reside?

If from knowledge no fading out could be

And knowledge alone is, to where could

all this descend?

Knowledge is not known here,

When known both become one and the same.

Prior to knowledge "What?" if we should ask,

Other than knowledge nothing here is found;

The unknowing, what limitation could it have?

And as for knowledge, there is nothing here to see.

Of knowledge we are aware; of its absence

We have no awareness here; which in which abides?

Though known here, not as knowledge

do we un-know

When we ourselves should here regard.

Even from the day that knowledge ever was,

this too has been;

(But) how could this stand if knowledge

alone were real?

Of knowledge no disjunct category there is;

(And) whatever could there be if but knowledge

were not?

There is a habitation for knowledge

None distinct there is for the known;

If there is knowledge as an item distinct

How could the known enter there into?

On that day, unaware of aught

Consumed by the known, all will be gone.

What in knowledge' is it that is not known?

And as for knowledge, how could it arise at all?

As the knower of knowledge, what makes known here

That do we become; if this is conceded

What kind is knowledge, and how come

The known; and what kind could it be?

Yourself is what is known as knowledge;

By putting down your own knowledge,

it becomes the known.

The known is thus twofold: one conscious

of knowing,

And the other not conscious of the same.

Knowledge, too, likewise in its turn proceeding

Became reflected in the knower once again,

And one spark of knowledge falling

into this the known,

Into five shreds it became split up.

If one could still be cognizant of oneself

As the knower of knowledge, still knowing

knowledge to be all,

The one that is knowledge and the one

that is the knower,

And six within that which is known, eight thus

they become.

Corresponding likewise with this known

Knowledge, too, seven and one, makes eight;

Knowledge is thus superficially distinguished

As also the known, when separated one from one.