The Ramayana Part 120

My life can be no longer borne, Since Sita from my side is torn."

Thus like a helpless mourner, bent By sorrow, Rama made lament; And with wise counsel Lakshma? tried To soothe his care, and thus replied: "O best of men, thy grief oppose, Nor sink beneath thy weight of woes.

Not thus despond the great and pure And brave like thee, but still endure.

Reflect what anguish wrings the heart When loving souls are forced to part; And, mindful of the coming pain, Thy love within thy breast restrain.

For earth, though cooled by wandering streams, Lies scorched beneath the midday beams.

Rava? his steps to h.e.l.l may bend, Or lower yet in flight descend; But be thou sure, O Raghu's son, Avenging death he shall not shun.

Rise, Rama, rise: the search begin, And track the giant foul with sin.

Then shall the fiend, though far he fly, Resign his prey or surely die.

Yea, though the trembling monster hide With Sita close to Diti's(535) side, E'en there, unless he yield the prize, Slain by this wrathful hand he dies.

Thy heart with strength and courage stay, And cast this weakling mood away.

Our fainting hopes in vain revive Unless with firm resolve we strive.

The zeal that fires the toiler's breast Mid earthly powers is first and best.

Zeal every check and bar defies, And wins at length the loftiest prize, In woe and danger, toil and care, Zeal never yields to weak despair.

With zealous heart thy task begin, And thou once more thy spouse shalt win.

Cast fruitless sorrow from thy soul, Nor let this love thy heart control.

Forget not all thy sacred lore, But be thy n.o.ble self once more."

He heard, his bosom rent by grief, The counsel of his brother chief; Crushed in his heart the maddening pain, And rose resolved and strong again.

Then forth upon his journey went The hero on his task intent, Nor thought of Pampa's lovely brook, Or trees which murmuring breezes shook, Though on dark woods his glances fell, On waterfall and cave and dell; And still by many a care distressed The son of Raghu onward pressed.

As some wild elephant elate Moves through the woods in pride, So Lakshma? with majestic gait Strode by his brother's side.

He, for his lofty spirit famed, Admonished and consoled; Showed Raghu's son what duty claimed, And bade his heart be bold.

Then as the brothers strode apace To Rishyamuka's height, The sovereign of the Vanar race(536) Was troubled at the sight.

As on the lofty hill he strayed He saw the chiefs draw near: A while their glorious forms surveyed, And mused in restless fear.

His slow majestic step he stayed And gazed upon the pair.

And all his spirit sank dismayed By fear too great to bear.

When in their glorious might the best Of royal chiefs came nigh, The Vanars in their wild unrest Prepared to turn and fly.

They sought the hermit's sacred home(537) For peace and bliss ordained, And there, where Vanars loved to roam, A sure asylum gained.

Canto II. Sugriva's Alarm.

Sugriva moved by wondering awe The high-souled sons of Raghu saw, In all their glorious arms arrayed; And grief upon his spirit weighed.

To every quarter of the sky He turned in fear his anxious eye, And roving still from spot to spot With troubled steps he rested not.

He durst not, as he viewed the pair, Resolve to stand and meet them there; And drooping cheer and quailing breast The terror of the chief confessed.

While the great fear his bosom shook, Brief counsel with his lords he took; Each gain and danger closely scanned, What hope in flight, what power to stand, While doubt and fear his bosom rent, On Raghu's sons his eyes he bent, And with a spirit ill at ease Addressed his lords in words like these:

"Those chiefs with wandering steps invade The shelter of our pathless shade, And hither come in fair disguise Of hermit garb as Bali's spies."

Each lord beheld with troubled heart Those masters of the bowman's art, And left the mountain side to seek Sure refuge on a loftier peak.

The Vanar chief in rapid flight Found shelter on a towering height, And all the band with one accord Were closely gathered round their lord.

Their course the same, with desperate leap Each made his way from steep to steep, And speeding on in wild career Filled every height with sudden fear.

Each heart was struck with mortal dread, As on their course the Vanars sped, While trees that crowned the steep were bent And crushed beneath them as they went.

As in their eager flight they pressed For safety to each mountain crest, The wild confusion struck with fear Tiger and cat and wandering deer.

The lords who watched Sugriva's will Were gathered on the royal hill, And all with reverent hands upraised Upon their king and leader gazed.

Sugriva feared some evil planned, Some train prepared by Bali's hand.

But, skilled in words that charm and teach, Thus Hanuman(538) began his speech:

"Dismiss, dismiss thine idle fear, Nor dread the power of Bali here.

For this is Malaya's glorious hill(539) Where Bali's might can work no ill.

I look around but nowhere see The hated foe who made thee flee, Fell Bali, fierce in form and face: Then fear not, lord of Vanar race.

Alas, in thee I clearly find The weakness of the Vanar kind, That loves from thought to thought to range, Fix no belief and welcome change.

Mark well each hint and sign and scan, Discreet and wise, thine every plan.

How may a king, with sense denied, The subjects of his sceptre guide?"

Hanuman,(540) wise in hour of need, Urged on the chief his prudent rede.

His listening ear Sugriva bent, And spake in words more excellent:

"Where is the dauntless heart that free From terror's chilling touch can see Two stranger warriors, strong as those, Equipped with swords and shafts and bows, With mighty arms and large full eyes, Like glorious children of the skies?

Bali my foe, I ween, has sent These chiefs to aid his dark intent.

Hence doubt and fear disturb me still, For thousands serve a monarch's will, In borrowed garb they come, and those Who walk disguised are counted foes.

With secret thoughts they watch their time, And wound fond hearts that fear no crime.

My foe in state affairs is wise, And prudent kings have searching eyes.

By other hands they strike the foe: By meaner tools the truth they know.

Now to those stranger warriors turn, And, less than king, their purpose learn.

Mark well the trick and look of each; Observe his form and note his speech.

With care their mood and temper sound, And, if their minds be friendly found, With courteous looks and words begin Their confidence and love to win.

Then as my friend and envoy speak, And question what the strangers seek.

Ask why equipped with shaft and bow Through this wild maze of wood they go.

If they, O chief, at first appear Pure of all guile, in heart sincere, Detect in speech and look the sin And treachery that lurk within."

He spoke: the Wind-G.o.d's son obeyed.

With ready zeal he sought the shade, And reached with hasty steps the wood Where Raghu's son and Lakshma? stood.(541)

Canto III. Hanuman's Speech.

The envoy in his faithful breast Pondered Sugriva's high behest.

From Rishyamuka's peak he hied And placed him by the princes' side.

The Wind-G.o.d's son with cautious art Had laid his Vanar form apart, And wore, to cheat the strangers eyes, A wandering mendicant's disguise.(542) Before the heroes' feet he bent And did obeisance reverent, And spoke, the glorious pair to praise, His words of truth in courteous phrase, High honour duly paid, the best Of all the Vanar kind addressed, With free accord and gentle grace, Those glories of their warrior race:

"O hermits, blest in vows, who shine Like royal saints or G.o.ds divine, O best of young ascetics, say How to this spot you found your way, Scaring the troops of wandering deer And silvan things that harbour here Searching amid the trees that grow Where Pampa's gentle waters flow.

And lending from your brows a gleam Of glory to the lovely stream.

Who are you, say, so brave and fair, Clad in the bark which hermits wear?

I see you heave the frequent sigh, I see the deer before you fly.

While you, for strength and valour dread, The earth, like lordly lions, tread, Each bearing in his hand a bow, Like Indra's own, to slay the foe.

With the grand paces of a bull, So bright and young and beautiful.

The mighty arms you raise appear Like trunks which elephants uprear, And as you move this mountain-king(543) Is glorious with the light you bring.

How have you reached, like G.o.ds in face, Best lords of earth, this lonely place, With tresses coiled in hermit guise,(544) And splendours of those lotus eyes?

As G.o.ds who leave their heavenly sphere, Alike your beauteous forms appear.

The Lords of Day and Night(545) might thus Stray from the skies to visit us.

Heroic youth, so broad of chest, Fair with the beauty of the Blest, With lion shoulders, tall and strong, Like bulls who lead the lowing throng, Your arms, unmatched for grace and length, With ma.s.sive clubs may vie in strength.

Why do no gauds those limbs adorn Where priceless gems were meetly worn?

Each n.o.ble youth is fit, I deem, To guard this earth, as lord supreme, With all her woods and seas, to reign From Meru's peak to Vindhya's chain.