The Ramayana Part 185

But Rama, pride of Raghu's race, Gazed tenderly on Lakshma?'s face, And, as the sight his spirit broke, Turned to Sushe? and sadly spoke: "Where is my power and valour? how Shall I have heart for battle now, When dead before my weeping eyes My brother, n.o.blest Lakshma?, lies?

My tears in blinding torrents flow, My hand unnerved has dropped my bow.

The pangs of woe have blanched my cheek, My heart is sick, my strength is weak.

Ah me, my brother! Ah, that I By Lakshma?'s side might sink and die: Life, war and conquest, all are vain If Lakshma? lies in battle slain.

Why will those eyes my glances shun?

Hast thou no word of answer, none?

Ah, is thy n.o.ble spirit flown And gone to other worlds alone?

Couldst thou not let thy brother seek Those worlds with thee? O speak, O speak!

Rise up once more, my brother, rise, Look on me with thy loving eyes.

Were not thy steps beside me still In gloomy wood, on breezy hill?

Did not thy gentle care a.s.suage Thy brother's grief and fitful rage?

Didst thou not all his troubles share, His guide and comfort in despair?"

As Rama, vanquished, wept and sighed The Vanar chieftain thus replied: "Great Prince, unmanly thoughts dismiss, Nor yield thy soul to grief like this.

In vain those burning tears are shed: Our glory Lakshma? is not dead.

Death on his brow no mark has set, Where beauty's l.u.s.tre lingers yet.

Clear is the skin, and tender hues Of lotus flowers his palms suffuse.

O Rama, cheer thy trembling heart; Not thus do life and body part.

Now, Hanuman, to thee I speak: Hie hence to tall Mahodaya's(996) peak Where herbs of sovereign virtue grow Which life and health and strength bestow Bring thou the leaves to balm his pain, And Lakshma? shall be well again."

He ceased: the Wind-G.o.d's son obeyed Swift through the clouds his way he made.

He reached the hill, nor stayed to find The wondrous herbs of healing kind, From its broad base the mount he tore With all the shrubs and trees it bore, Sped through the clouds again and showed To wise Sushe? his woody load.(997) Sushe? in wonder viewed the hill, And culled the sovereign salve of ill.

Soon as the healing herb he found, The fragrant leaves he crushed and ground.

Then over Lakshma?'s face he bent, Who, healed and strengthened by the scent Of that blest herb divinely sweet, Rose fresh and l.u.s.ty on his feet.

Canto CIII. Indra's Car.

Then Raghu's son forgot his woe: Again he grasped his fallen bow And hurled at Lanka's lord amain The tempest of his arrowy rain.

Drawn by the steeds his lords had brought, Again the giant turned and fought.

And drove his glittering chariot nigh As springs the Day-G.o.d through the sky.

Then, as his sounding bow he bent, Like thunderbolts his shafts were sent, As when dark clouds in rain time shed Fierce torrents on a mountain's head.

High on his car the giant rode, On foot the son of Raghu strode.

The G.o.ds from their celestial height Indignant saw the unequal fight.

Then he whom heavenly hosts revere, Lord Indra, called his charioteer:

"Haste, Matali," he cried, "descend; To Raghu's son my chariot lend.

With cheering words the chief address; And all the G.o.ds thy deed will bless."

He bowed; he brought the glorious car Whose tinkling bells were heard afar; Fair as the sun of morning, bright With gold and pearl and lazulite.

He yoked the steeds of tawny hue That swifter than the tempest flew.

Then down the slope of heaven he hied And stayed the car by Rama's side.

"Ascend, O Chief," he humbly cried, "The chariot which the G.o.ds provide.

The mighty bow of Indra see, Sent by the G.o.ds who favour thee; Behold this coat of glittering mail, And spear and shafts which never fail."

Cheered by the grace the Immortals showed The chieftain on the chariot rode.

Then as the car-borne warriors met The awful fight raged fiercer yet.

Each shaft that Rava? shot became A serpent red with kindled flame, And round the limbs of Rama hung With fiery jaws and quivering tongue.

But every serpent fled dismayed When Raghu's valiant son displayed The weapon of the Feathered King,(998) And loosed his arrows from the string.

But Rava? armed his bow anew, And showers of shafts at Rama flew, While the fierce king in swift career Smote with a dart the charioteer.

An arrow shot by Rava?'s hand Laid the proud banner on the sand, And Indra's steeds of heavenly strain Fell by the iron tempest slain.

On G.o.ds and spirits of the air Fell terror, trembling, and despair.

The sea's white billows mounted high With froth and foam to drench the sky.

The sun by lurid clouds was veiled, The friendly lights of heaven were paled; And, fiercely gleaming, fiery Mars Opposed the beams of gentler stars.

Then Rama's eyes with fury blazed As Indra's heavenly spear he raised.

Loud rang the bells: the glistering head Bright flashes through the region shed.

Down came the spear in swift descent: The giant's lance was crushed and bent.

Then Rava?'s horses brave and fleet Fell dead beneath his arrowy sleet.

Fierce on his foeman Rama pressed, And gored with shafts his mighty breast.

And spouting streams of crimson dyed The weary giant's limbs and side.

[I omit Cantos CIV and CV in which the fight is renewed and Rava? severely reprimands his charioteer for timidity and want of confidence in his master's prowess, and orders him to charge straight at Rama on the next occasion.]

Canto CVI. Glory To The Sun.

There faint and bleeding fast, apart Stood Rava? raging in his heart.

Then, moved with ruth for Rama's sake, Agastya(999) came and gently spake: "Bend, Rama, bend thy heart and ear The everlasting truth to hear Which all thy hopes through life will bless And crown thine arms with full success.

The rising sun with golden rays, Light of the worlds, adore and praise: The universal king, the lord By hosts of heaven and fiends adored.

He tempers all with soft control, He is the G.o.ds' diviner soul; And G.o.ds above and fiends below And men to him their safety owe.

He Brahma, Vish?u, Siva, he Each person of the glorious Three, Is every G.o.d whose praise we tell, The King of Heaven,(1000) the Lord of h.e.l.l:(1001) Each G.o.d revered from times of old, The Lord of War,(1002) the King of Gold:(1003) Mahendra, Time and Death is he, The Moon, the Ruler of the Sea.(1004) He hears our praise in every form,- The manes,(1005) G.o.ds who ride the storm,(1006) The Asvins,(1007) Manu,(1008) they who stand Round Indra,(1009) and the Sadhyas'(1010) band He is the air, and life and fire, The universal source and sire: He brings the seasons at his call, Creator, light, and nurse of all.

His heavenly course he joys to run, Maker of Day, the golden sun.

The steeds that whirl his car are seven,(1011) The flaming steeds that flash through heaven.

Lord of the sky, the conqueror parts The clouds of night with glistering darts.

He, master of the Vedas' lore, Commands the clouds' collected store: He is the rivers' surest friend; He bids the rains, and they descend.

Stars, planets, constellations own Their monarch of the golden throne.

Lord of twelve forms,(1012) to thee I bow, Most glorious King of heaven art thou.

O Rama, he who pays aright Due worship to the Lord of Light Shall never fall oppressed by ill, But find a stay and comfort still.

Adore with all thy heart and mind This G.o.d of G.o.ds, to him resigned; And thou his saving power shalt know Victorious o'er thy giant foe."

[This Canto does not appear in the Bengal recension. It comes in awkwardly and may I think be considered as an interpolation, but I paraphrase a portion of it as a relief after so much fighting and carnage, and as an interesting glimpse of the monotheistic ideas which underlie the Hindu religion. The hymn does not readily lend itself to metrical translation, and I have not attempted here to give a faithful rendering of the whole. A literal version of the text and the commentary given in the Calcutta edition will be found in the Additional Notes.

A canto is here omitted. It contains fighting of the ordinary kind between Rama and Rava?, and a description of sights and sounds of evil omen foreboding the destruction of the giant.]

Canto CVIII. The Battle.

He spoke, and vanished: Rama raised His eyes with reverence meet, and praised The glorious Day-G.o.d full in view: Then armed him for the fight anew.

Urged onward by his charioteer The giant's foaming steeds came near, And furious was the battle's din Where each resolved to die or win.