The Ramayana Part 177

The giant, raging in his heart, Laid on his bow a fiery dart; The Vanar on his flagstaff eyed, And thus in tones of fury cried: "Well skilled in magic lore art thou: But will thine art avail thee now?

See if thy magic will defend Thy life against the dart I send."

Thus Rava? spake, the giant king, And loosed the arrow from the string.

It pierced, with direst fury sped, The Vanar with its flaming head.

His father's might, his power innate Preserved him from the threatened fate.

Upon his knees he fell, distained With streams of blood, but life remained.

Still Rava? for the battle burned: At Lakshma? next his car he turned, And charged amain with furious show, Straining in mighty hands his bow.

"Come," Lakshma? cried, "a.s.say the fight: Leave foes unworthy of thy might."

Thus Lakshma? spoke: and Lanka's lord Heard the dread thunder of the cord.

And mad with burning rage and pride In hasty words like these replied: "Joy, joy is mine, O Raghu's son: Thy fate to-day thou canst not shun.

Slain by mine arrows thou shalt tread The gloomy pathway of the dead."

Thus as he spoke his bow he drew, And seven keen shafts at Lakshma? flew, But Raghu's son with surest aim Cleft every arrow as it came.

Thus with fleet shafts each warrior shot Against his foe, and rested not.

Then one choice weapon from his store, By Brahma's self bestowed of yore, Fierce as the flames that end the world, The giant king at Lakshma? hurled.

The hero fell, and racked with pain, Scarce could his hand his bow retain.

But sense and strength resumed their seat And, lightly springing to his feet, He struck with one tremendous stroke And Rava?'s bow in splinters broke.

From Lakshma?'s cord three arrows flew And pierced the giant monarch through.

Sore wounded Rava? closed, and round Ikshvaku's son his strong arms wound.

With strength unrivalled, Brahma's gift, He strove from earth his foe to lift.

"Shall I," he cried, "who overthrow Mount Meru and the Lord of Snow, And heaven and all who dwell therein, Be foiled by one of Rama's kin?"

But though he heaved, and toiled, and strained, Unmoved Ikshvaku's son remained.

His frame by those huge arms compressed The giant's G.o.d-given force confessed, But conscious that himself was part Of Vish?u, he was firm in heart.

The Wind-G.o.d's son the fight beheld, And rushed at Rava?, rage-impelled.

Down crashed his mighty hand; the foe Full in the chest received the blow.

His eyes grew dim, his knees gave way, And senseless on the earth he lay.

The Wind-G.o.d's son to Rama bore Deep-wounded Lakshma? stained with gore.

He whom no foe might lift or bend Was light as air to such a friend.

The dart that Lakshma?'s side had cleft, Untouched, the hero's body left, And flashing through the air afar Resumed its place in Rava?'s car; And, waxing well though wounded sore, He felt the deadly pain no more.

And Rava?, though with deep wounds pained, Slowly his sense and strength regained, And furious still and undismayed On bow and shaft his hand he laid.

Then Hanuman to Rama cried: "Ascend my back, great chief, and ride Like Vish?u borne on Garu?'s wing, To battle with the giant king."

So, burning for the dire attack, Rode Rama on the Vanar's back, And with fierce accents loud and slow Thus gave defiance to the foe, While his strained bowstring made a sound Like thunder when it shakes the ground: "Stay, Monarch of the giants, stay, The penalty of sin to pay.

Stay! whither wilt thou fly, and how Escape the death that waits thee now?"

No word the giant king returned: His eyes with flames of fury burned.

His arm was stretched, his bow was bent, And swift his fiery shafts were sent.

Red torrents from the Vanar flowed: Then Rama near to Rava? strode, And with keen darts that never failed, The chariot of the king a.s.sailed.

With surest aim his arrows flew: The driver and the steeds he slew.

And shattered with the pointed steel Car, flag, and pole and yoke and wheel.

As Indra hurls his bolt to smite Mount Meru's heaven-ascending height, So Rama with a flaming dart Struck Lanka's monarch near the heart, Who reeled and fell beneath the blow And from loose fingers dropped his bow.

Bright as the sun, with crescent head, From Rama's bow an arrow sped, And from his forehead, proud no more, Cleft the bright coronet he wore.

Then Rama stood by Rava?'s side And to the conquered giant cried: "Well hast thou fought: thine arm has slain Strong heroes of the Vanar train.

I will not strike or slay thee now, For weary, faint with fight art thou.

To Lanka's town thy footsteps bend, And there the night securely spend.

To-morrow come with car and bow, And then my prowess shalt thou know."

He ceased: the king in humbled pride Rose from the earth and naught replied.

With wounded limbs and shattered crown He sought again his royal town.

Canto LX. k.u.mbhakarna Roused.

With humbled heart and broken pride Through Lanka's gate the giant hied, Crushed, like an elephant beneath A lion's spring and murderous teeth, Or like a serpent 'neath the wing And talons of the Feathered King.

Such was the giant's wild alarm At arrows shot by Rama's arm; Shafts with red lightning round them curled, Like Brahma's bolts that end the world.

Supported on his golden throne, With failing eye and humbled tone, "Giants," he cried, "the toil is vain, Fruitless the penance and the pain, If I whom Indra owned his peer, Secure from G.o.ds, a mortal fear.

My soul remembers, now too late, Lord Brahma's words who spoke my fate: "Tremble, proud Giant," thus they ran, "And dread thy death from slighted man.

Secure from G.o.ds and demons live, And serpents, by the boon I give.

Against their power thy life is charmed, But against man is still unarmed."

This Rama is the man foretold By Anara?ya's(965) lips of old:

"Fear, Rava?, basest of the base: For of mine own imperial race A prince in after time shall spring And thee and thine to ruin bring.

And Vedavati,(966) ere she died Slain by my ruthless insult, cried: "A scion of my royal line Shall slay, vile wretch, both thee and thine."

She in a later birth became King Janak's child, now Rama's dame.

Nandisvara(967) foretold this fate, And Uma(968) when I moved her hate, And Rambha,(969) and the lovely child Of Varu?(970) by my touch defiled.

I know the fated hour is nigh: Hence, captains, to your stations fly.

Let warders on the rampart stand: Place at each gate a watchful band; And, terror of immortal eyes, Let mightiest k.u.mbhakar?a rise.

He, slumbering, free from care and pain, By Brahma's curse, for months has lain.

But when Prahasta's death he hears, Mine own defeat and doubts and fears, The chief will rise to smite the foe And his unrivalled valour show.

Then Raghu's royal sons and all The Vanars neath his might will fall."

The giant lords his hest obeyed, They left him, trembling and afraid, And from the royal palace strode To k.u.mbhakar?a's vast abode.

They carried garlands sweet and fresh, And reeking loads of blood and flesh.

They reached the dwelling where he lay, A cave that reached a league each way, Sweet with fair blooms of lovely scent And bright with golden ornament.

His breathings came so fierce and fast, Scarce could the giants brook the blast.

They found him on a golden bed With his huge limbs at length outspread.

They piled their heaps of venison near, Fat buffaloes and boars and deer.

With wreaths of flowers they fanned his face, And incense sweetened all the place.

Each raised his mighty voice as loud As thunders of an angry cloud, And conchs their stirring summons gave That echoed through the giant's cave.

Then on his breast they rained their blows, And high the wild commotion rose When cymbal vied with drum and horn.

And war cries on the gale upborne.

Through all the air loud discord spread, And, struck with fear, the birds fell dead.

But still he slept and took his rest.

Then dashed they on his s.h.a.ggy chest Clubs, maces, fragments of the rock: He moved not once, nor felt the shock.

The giants made one effort more With sh.e.l.l and drum and shout and roar.

Club, mallet, mace, in fury plied, Rained blows upon his breast and side.

And elephants were urged to aid, And camels groaned and horses neighed.

They drenched him with a hundred pails, They tore his ears with teeth and nails.

They bound together many a mace And beat him on the head and face; And elephants with ponderous tread Stamped on his limbs and chest and head.

The unusual weight his slumber broke: He started, shook his sides, and woke; And, heedless of the wounds and blows, Yawning with thirst and hunger rose, His jaws like h.e.l.l gaped fierce and wide, Dire as the flame neath ocean's tide.

Red as the sun on Meru's crest The giant's face his wrath expressed, And every burning breath he drew Was like the blast that rushes through The mountain cedars. Up he raised His awful head with eyes that blazed Like comets, dire as Death in form Who threats the worlds with fire and storm.

The giants pointed to their stores Of buffaloes and deer and boars, And straight he gorged him with a flood Of wine, with marrow, flesh, and blood.