The Ramayana Part 117

This hour thy footsteps onward bend, And make that mighty prince thy friend.

With him before the attesting flame In solemn truth alliance frame.

Nor wilt thou, if thy heart be wise, Sugriva, Vanar king, despise.

Of boundless strength, all shapes he wears, He hearkens to a suppliant's prayers, And, grateful for each kindly deed, Will help and save in hour of need.

And you, I ween, the power possess To aid his hopes and give redress.

He, let his cause succeed or fail, Will help you, and you must prevail.

A banished prince, in fear and woe He roams where Pampa's waters flow, True offspring of the Lord of Light Expelled by Bali's conquering might.

Go, Raghu's son, that chieftain seek Who dwells on Rishyamuka's peak.

Before the flame thy weapons cast And bind the bonds of friendship fast.

For, prince of all the Vanar race, He in his wisdom knows each place Where dwell the fierce gigantic brood Who make the flesh of man their food.

To him, O Raghu's son, to him Naught in the world is dark or dim, Where'er the mighty Day-G.o.d gleams Resplendent with a thousand beams.

He over rocky height and hill, Through gloomy cave, by lake and rill, Will with his Vanars seek the prize, And tell thee where thy lady lies.

And he will send great chieftains forth To east and west and south and north, To seek the distant spot where she All desolate laments for thee.

He even in Rava?'s halls would find Thy Sita, gem of womankind.

Yea, if the blameless lady lay On Meru's loftiest steep, Or, far removed from light of day, Where h.e.l.l is dark and deep, That chief of all the Vanar race His way would still explore, Meet the cowed giants face to face And thy dear spouse restore."

Canto LXXIV. Kabandha's Death.

When wise Kabandha thus had taught The means to find the dame they sought, And urged them onward in the quest, He thus again the prince addressed:

"This path, O Raghu's son, pursue Where those fair trees which charm the view, Extending westward far away, The glory of their bloom display, Where their bright leaves Rose-apples show, And the tall Jak and Mango grow.

Whene'er you will, those trees ascend, Or the long branches shake and bend, Their savoury fruit like Amrit eat, Then onward speed with willing feet.

Beyond this shady forest, decked With flowering trees, your course direct.

Another grove you then will find With every joy to take the mind, Like Nandan with its charms displayed, Or Northern Kuru's blissful shade; Where trees distil their balmy juice, And fruit through all the year produce; Where shades with seasons ever fair With Chaitraratha may compare: Where trees whose sprays with fruit are bowed Rise like a mountain or a cloud.

There, when you list, from time to time, The loaded trees may Lakshma? climb, Or from the shaken boughs supply Sweet fruit that may with Amrit vie.

The onward path pursuing still From wood to wood, from hill to hill, Your happy eyes at length will rest On Pampa's lotus-covered breast.

Her banks with gentle slope descend, Nor stones nor weed the eyes offend, And o'er smooth beds of silver sand Lotus and lily blooms expand.

There swans and ducks and curlews play, And keen-eyed ospreys watch their prey, And from the limpid waves are heard Glad notes of many a water-bird.

Untaught a deadly foe to fear They fly not when a man is near, And fat as b.a.l.l.s of b.u.t.ter they Will, when you list, your hunger stay.

Then Lakshma? with his shafts will take The fish that swim the brook and lake, Remove each bone and scale and fin, Or strip away the speckled skin, And then on iron skewers broil For thy repast the savoury spoil.

Thou on a heap of flowers shalt rest And eat the meal his hands have dressed, There shalt thou lie on Pampa's brink, And Lakshma?'s hand shall give thee drink, Filling a lotus leaf with cool Pure water from the crystal pool, To which the opening blooms have lent The riches of divinest scent.

Beside thee at the close of day Will Lakshma? through the woodland stray, And show thee where the monkeys sleep In caves beneath the mountain steep.

Loud-voiced as bulls they forth will burst And seek the flood, oppressed by thirst; Then rest a while, their wants supplied, Their well-fed bands on Pampa's side.

Thou roving there at eve shalt see Rich cl.u.s.ters hang on shrub and tree, And Pampa flushed with roseate glow, And at the view forget thy woe.

There shalt thou mark with strange delight Each loveliest flower that blooms by night, While lily buds that shrink from day Their tender loveliness display.

In that far wild no hand but thine Those peerless flowers in wreaths shall twine: Immortal in their changeless pride, Ne'er fade those blooms and ne'er are dried.

There erst on holy thoughts intent Their days Matanga's pupils spent.

Once for their master food they sought, And store of fruit and berries brought.

Then as they laboured through the dell From limb and brow the heat-drops fell: Thence sprang and bloomed those wondrous trees: Such holy power have devotees.

Thus, from the hermits' heat-drops sprung, Their growth is ever fresh and young.

There Savari is dwelling yet, Who served each vanished anch.o.r.et.

Beneath the shade of holy boughs That ancient votaress keeps her vows.

Her happy eyes on thee will fall, O G.o.dlike prince, adored by all, And she, whose life is pure from sin, A blissful seat in heaven will win.

But cross, O son of Raghu, o'er, And stand on Pampa's western sh.o.r.e.

A tranquil hermitage that lies Deep in the woods will meet thine eyes.

No wandering elephants invade The stillness of that holy shade, But checked by saint Matanga's power They spare each consecrated bower.

Through many an age those trees have stood World-famous as Matanga's wood Still, Raghu's son, pursue thy way: Through shades where birds are vocal stray, Fair as the blessed wood where rove Immortal G.o.ds, or Nandan's grove.

Near Pampa eastward, full in sight, Stands Rishyamuka's wood-crowned height.

'Tis hard to climb that towering steep Where serpents unmolested sleep.

The free and bounteous, formed of old By Brahma of superior mould, Who sink when day is done to rest Reclining on that mountain crest,- What wealth or joy in dreams they view, Awaking find the vision true.

But if a villain stained with crime That holy hill presume to climb, The giants in their fury sweep From the hill top the wretch asleep.

There loud and long is heard the roar Of elephants on Pampa's sh.o.r.e, Who near Matanga's dwelling stray And in those waters bathe and play.

A while they revel by the flood, Their temples stained with streams like blood, Then wander far away dispersed, Dark as huge clouds before they burst.

But ere they part they drink their fill Of bright pure water from the rill, Delightful to the touch, where meet Scents of all flowers divinely sweet, Then speeding from the river side Deep in the sheltering thicket hide.

Then bears and tigers shalt thou view Whose soft skins show the sapphire's hue, And silvan deer that wander nigh Shall harmless from thy presence fly.

High in that mountain's wooded side Is a fair cavern deep and wide, Yet hard to enter: piles of rock The portals of the cavern block.(521) Fast by the eastern door a pool Gleams with broad waters fresh and cool, Where stores of roots and fruit abound, And thick trees shade the gra.s.sy ground.

This mountain cave the virtuous-souled Sugriva, and his Vanars hold, And oft the mighty chieftain seeks The summits of those towering peaks."

Thus spake Kabandha high in air His counsel to the royal pair.

Still on his neck that wreath he bore, And radiance like the sun's he wore.

Their eyes the princely brothers raised And on that blissful being gazed: "Behold, we go: no more delay; Begin," they cried, "thy heavenward way."

"Depart," Kabandha's voice replied, "Pursue your search, and bliss betide."

Thus to the happy chiefs he said, Then on his heavenward journey sped.

Thus once again Kabandha won A shape that glittered like the sun Without a spot or stain.

Thus bade he Rama from the air To great Sugriva's side repair His friendly love to gain.

Canto LXXV. Savari.

Thus counselled by their friendly guide On through the wood the princes hied, Pursuing still the eastern road To Pampa which Kabandha showed, Where trees that on the mountains grew With fruit like honey charmed the view.

They rested weary for the night Upon a mountain's wooded height, Then onward with the dawn they hied And stood on Pampa's western side, Where Savari's fair home they viewed Deep in that shady solitude.

The princes reached the holy ground Where n.o.ble trees stood thick around, And joying in the lovely view Near to the aged votaress drew.

To meet the sons of Raghu came, With hands upraised, the pious dame, And bending low with reverence meet Welcomed them both and pressed their feet.

Then water, as beseems, she gave, Their lips to cool, their feet to lave.

To that pure saint who never broke One law of duty Rama spoke:

"I trust no cares invade thy peace, While holy works and zeal increase; That thou content with scanty food All touch of ire hast long subdued; That all thy vows are well maintained While peace of mind is surely gained, That reverence of the saints who taught Thy faithful heart due fruit has brought."

The aged votaress pure of taint, Revered by every perfect saint, Rose to her feet by Rama's side And thus in gentle tones replied: "My penance meed this day I see Complete, my lord, in meeting thee.

This day the fruit of birth I gain, Nor have I served the saints in vain.

I reap rich fruits of toil and vow, And heaven itself awaits me now, When I, O chief of men, have done Honour to thee the G.o.dlike one.

I feel, great lord, thy gentle eye My earthly spirit purify, And I, brave tamer of thy foes, Shall through thy grace in bliss repose.

Thy feet by Chitraku?a strayed When those great saints whom I obeyed, In dazzling chariots bright of hue, Hence to their heavenly mansions flew.

As the high saints were borne away I heard their holy voices say: "In this pure grove, O devotee, Prince Rama soon will visit thee.

When he and Lakshma? seek this shade, Be to thy guests all honour paid.

Him shalt thou see, and pa.s.s away To those blest worlds which ne'er decay."

To me, O mighty chief, the best Of lofty saints these words addressed.

Laid up within my dwelling lie Fruits of each sort which woods supply,- Food culled for thee in endless store From every tree on Pampa's sh.o.r.e."

Thus to her virtuous guest she sued And he, with heavenly lore endued, Words such as these in turn addressed To her with equal knowledge blest: "Danu himself the power has told Of thy great masters lofty-souled.

Now if thou will, mine eyes would fain a.s.surance of their glories gain."