The Ramayana Part 113

The hatred that I nursed of old Grows mightier now a hundred fold Against these giants, fierce of heart, Who change their forms by magic art.

Slain, eaten by the giant press, Or stolen is the votaress, Nor could her virtue bring defence To Sita seized and hurried hence.

O, if my love be slain or lost All hope of bliss for me is crossed.

The power of all the worlds were vain To bring one joy to soothe my pain.

The spirits with their blinded eyes Would look in wonder, and despise The Lord who made the worlds, the great Creator when compa.s.sionate.

And so, I ween, the Immortals turn Cold eyes upon me now, and spurn The weakling prompt at pity's call, Devoted to the good of all.

But from this day behold me changed, From every gentle grace estranged.

Now be it mine all life to slay, And sweep these cursed fiends away.

As the great sun leaps up the sky, And the cold moonbeams fade and die, So vengeance rises in my breast, One pa.s.sion conquering all the rest.

Gandharvas in their radiant place, The Yakshas, and the giant race, Kinnars and men shall look in vain For joy they ne'er shall see again.

The anguish of my great despair, O Lakshma?, fills the heaven and air; And I in wrath all life will slay Within the triple world to-day.

Unless the G.o.ds in heaven who dwell Restore my Sita safe and well, I armed with all the fires of Fate, The triple world will devastate.

The troubled stars from heaven shall fall, The moon be wrapped in gloomy pall, The fire be quenched, the wind be stilled, The radiant sun grow dark and chilled; Crushed every mountain's towering pride, And every lake and river dried, Dead every creeper, plant, and tree, And lost for aye the mighty sea.

Thou shalt the world this day behold In wild disorder uncontrolled, With dying life which naught defends From the fierce storm my bowstring sends.

My shafts this day, for Sita's sake, The life of every fiend shall take.

The G.o.ds this day shall see the force That wings my arrows on their course, And mark how far that course is held, By my unsparing wrath impelled.

No G.o.d, not one of Daitya strain, Goblin or Rakshas shall remain.

My wrath shall end the worlds, and all Demons and G.o.ds therewith shall fall.

Each world which G.o.ds, the Danav race, And giants make their dwelling place, Shall fall beneath my arrows sent In fury when my bow is bent.

The arrows loosened from my string Confusion on the worlds shall bring.

For she is lost or breathes no more, Nor will the G.o.ds my love restore.

Hence all on earth with life and breath This day I dedicate to death.

All, till my darling they reveal, The fury of my shafts shall feel."

Thus as he spake by rage impelled, Red grew his eyes, his fierce lips swelled.

His bark coat round his form he drew And coiled his hermit braids anew, Like Rudra when he yearned to slay The demon Tripur(509) in the fray.

So looked the hero brave and wise, The fury flashing from his eyes.

Then Rama, conqueror of the foe, From Lakshma?'s hand received his bow, Strained the great string, and laid thereon A deadly dart that flashed and shone, And spake these words as fierce in ire As He who ends the worlds with fire:

"As age and time and death and fate All life with checkless power await, So Lakshma? in my wrath to-day My vengeful might shall brook no stay, Unless this day I see my dame In whose sweet form is naught to blame,- Yea, as before, my love behold Fair with bright teeth and perfect mould, This world shall feel a deadly blow Destroyed with ruthless overthrow, And serpent lords and G.o.ds of air, Gandharvas, men, the doom shall share."

Canto LXVI. Lakshman's Speech.

He stood incensed with eyes of flame, Still mourning for his ravished dame, Determined, like the fire of Fate, To leave the wide world desolate.

His ready bow the hero eyed, And as again, again he sighed, The triple world would fain consume Like Hara(510) in the day of doom.

Then Lakshma? moved with sorrow viewed His brother in unwonted mood, And reverent palm to palm applied, Thus spoke with lips which terror dried "Thy heart was ever soft and kind, To every creature's good inclined.

Cast not thy tender mood away, Nor yield to anger's mastering sway.

The moon for gentle grace is known, The sun has splendour all his own, The restless wind is free and fast, And earth in patience unsurpa.s.sed.

So glory with her n.o.ble fruit Is thine eternal attribute.

O, let not, for the sin of one, The triple world be all undone.

I know not whose this car that lies In fragments here before our eyes, Nor who the chiefs who met and fought, Nor what the prize the foemen sought; Who marked the ground with hoof and wheel, Or whose the hand that plied the steel Which left this spot, the battle o'er, Thus sadly dyed with drops of gore.

Searching with utmost care I view The signs of one and not of two.

Where'er I turn mine eyes I trace No mighty host about the place.

Then mete not out for one offence This all-involving recompense.

For kings should use the sword they bear, But mild in time should learn to spare, Thou, ever moved by misery's call, Wast the great hope and stay of all.

Throughout this world who would not blame This outrage on thy ravished dame?

Gandharvas, Danavs, G.o.ds, the trees, The rocks, the rivers, and the seas, Can ne'er in aught thy soul offend, As one whom holiest rites befriend.

But him who dared to steal the dame Pursue, O King, with ceaseless aim, With me, the hermits' holy band, And thy great bow to arm thy hand By every mighty flood we'll seek, Each wood, each hill from base to peak.

To the fair homes of G.o.ds we'll fly, And bright Gandharvas in the sky, Until we reach, where'er he be, The wretch who stole thy spouse from thee.

Then if the G.o.ds will not restore Thy Sita when the search is o'er, Then, royal lord of Kosal's land, No longer hold thy vengeful hand.

If meekness, prayer, and right be weak To bring thee back the dame we seek, Up, brother, with a deadly shower Of gold-bright shafts thy foes o'erpower, Fierce as the flashing levin sent From King Mahendra's firmament.

Canto LXVII. Rama Appeased.

As Rama, pierced by sorrow's sting, Lamented like a helpless thing, And by his mighty woe distraught Was lost in maze of troubled thought, Sumitra's son with loving care Consoled him in his wild despair, And while his feet he gently pressed With words like these the chief addressed: "For sternest vow and n.o.blest deed Was Dasaratha blessed with seed.

Thee for his son the king obtained, Like Amrit by the G.o.ds regained.

Thy gentle graces won his heart, And all too weak to live apart The monarch died, as Bharat told, And lives on high mid G.o.ds enrolled.

If thou, O Rama, wilt not bear This grief which fills thee with despair, How shall a weaker man e'er hope, Infirm and mean, with woe to cope?

Take heart, I pray thee, n.o.blest chief: What man who breathes is free from grief?

Misfortunes come and burn like flame, Then fly as quickly as they came.

Yayati son of Nahush reigned With Indra on the throne he gained.

But falling for a light offence He mourned a while the consequence.

Vasish?ha, reverend saint and sage, Priest of our sire from youth to age, Begot a hundred sons, but they Were smitten in a single day.(511) And she, the queen whom all revere, The mother whom we hold so dear, The earth herself not seldom feels Fierce fever when she shakes and reels.

And those twin lights, the world's great eyes, On which the universe relies,- Does not eclipse at times a.s.sail Their brilliance till their fires grow pale?

The mighty Powers, the Immortal Blest Bend to a law which none contest.

No G.o.d, no bodied life is free From conquering Fate's supreme decree.

E'en Sakra's self must reap the meed Of virtue and of sinful deed.

And O great lord of men, wilt thou Helpless beneath thy misery bow?

No, if thy dame be lost or dead, O hero, still be comforted, Nor yield for ever to thy woe O'ermastered like the mean and low.

Thy peers, with keen far-reaching eyes, Spend not their hours in ceaseless sighs; In dire distress, in whelming ill Their manly looks are hopeful still.

To this, great chief, thy reason bend, And earnestly the truth perpend.

By reason's aid the wisest learn The good and evil to discern.

With sin and goodness scarcely known Faint light by chequered lives is shown; Without some clear undoubted deed We mark not how the fruits succeed.

In time of old, O thou most brave, To me thy lips such counsel gave.

V?ihaspati(512) can scarcely find New wisdom to instruct thy mind.

For thine is wit and genius high Meet for the children of the sky.

I rouse that heart benumbed by pain And call to vigorous life again.

Be manly G.o.dlike vigour shown; Put forth that n.o.blest strength, thine own.

Strive, best of old Ikshvaku's strain, Strive till the conquered foe be slain.

Where is the profit or the joy If thy fierce rage the worlds destroy?

Search till thou find the guilty foe, Then let thy hand no mercy show."

Canto LXVIII. Jatayus.

Thus faithful Lakshma? strove to cheer The prince with counsel wise and clear.

Who, prompt to seize the pith of all, Let not that wisdom idly fall.

With vigorous effort he restrained The pa.s.sion in his breast that reigned, And leaning on his bow for rest His brother Lakshma? thus addressed: "How shall we labour now, reflect; Whither again our search direct?

Brother, what plan canst thou devise To bring her to these longing eyes?"