The Ramayana Part 54

We will attend on Sita there; Be Raghu's son your special care."

The city dames, with grief distressed, Thus once again their lords addressed: "Rama shall be your guard and guide, And Sita will for us provide.

For who would care to linger here, Where all is sad and dark and drear?

Who, mid the mourners, hope for bliss In a poor soulless town like this?

If Queen Kaikeyi's treacherous sin, Our lord expelled, the kingdom win, We heed not sons or golden store, Our life itself we prize no more.

If she, seduced by l.u.s.t of sway, Her lord and son could cast away, Whom would she leave unharmed, the base Defiler of her royal race?

We swear it by our children dear, We will not dwell as servants here; If Queen Kaikeyi live to reign, We will not in her realm remain.

Bowed down by her oppressive hand, The helpless, lordless, G.o.dless land, Cursed for Kaikeyi's guilt will fall, And swift destruction seize it all.

For, Rama forced from home to fly, The king his sire will surely die, And when the king has breathed his last Ruin will doubtless follow fast.

Sad, robbed of merits, drug the cup And drink the poisoned mixture up, Or share the exiled Rama's lot, Or seek some land that knows her not.

No reason, but a false pretence Drove Rama, Sita, Lakshma? hence, And we to Bharat have been given Like cattle to the shambles driven."

While in each house the women, pained At loss of Rama, still complained, Sank to his rest the Lord of Day, And night through all the sky held sway.

The fires of worship all were cold, No text was hummed, no tale was told, And shades of midnight gloom came down Enveloping the mournful town.

Still, sick at heart, the women shed, As for a son or husband fled, For Rama tears, disquieted: No child was loved as he.

And all Ayodhya, where the feast, Music, and song, and dance had ceased, And merriment and glee, Where every merchant's store was closed That erst its glittering wares exposed, Was like a dried up sea.

Canto XLIX. The Crossing Of The Rivers.

Now Rama, ere the night was fled, O'er many a league of road had sped, Till, as his course he onward held, The morn the shades of night dispelled.

The rites of holy dawn he paid, And all the country round surveyed.

He saw, as still he hurried through With steeds which swift as arrows flew, Hamlets and groves with blossoms fair, And fields which showed the tillers' care, While from the cl.u.s.tered dwellings near The words of peasants reached his ear: "Fie on our lord the king, whose soul Is yielded up to love's control!

Fie on the vile Kaikeyi! Shame On that malicious sinful dame, Who, keenly bent on cruel deeds, No bounds of right and virtue heeds, But with her wicked art has sent So good a prince to banishment, Wise, tender-hearted, ruling well His senses, in the woods to dwell.

Ah cruel king! his heart of steel For his own son no love could feel, Who with the sinless Rama parts, The darling of the people's hearts."

These words he heard the peasants say, Who dwelt in hamlets by the way, And, lord of all the realm by right, Through Kosala pursued his flight.

Through the auspicious flood, at last, Of Vedasruti's stream he pa.s.sed, And onward to the place he sped By Saint Agastya tenanted.

Still on for many an hour he hied, And crossed the stream whose cooling tide Rolls onward till she meets the sea, The herd-frequented Gomati.(321) Borne by his rapid horses o'er, He reached that river's further sh.o.r.e.

And Syandika's, whose swan-loved stream Resounded with the peac.o.c.k's scream.

Then as he journeyed on his road To his Videhan bride he showed The populous land which Manu old To King Ikshvaku gave to hold.

The glorious prince, the lord of men Looked on the charioteer, and then Voiced like a wild swan, loud and clear, He spake these words and bade him hear: "When shall I, with returning feet My father and my mother meet?

When shall I lead the hunt once more In bloomy woods on Sarju's sh.o.r.e?

Most eagerly I long to ride Urging the chase on Sarju's side.

For royal saints have seen no blame In this, the monarch's matchless game."

Thus speeding on,-no rest or stay,- Ikshvaku's son pursued his way.

Oft his sweet voice the silence broke, And thus on varied themes he spoke.

Canto L. The Halt Under The Ingudi.(322)

So through the wide and fair extent Of Kosala the hero went.

Then toward Ayodhya back he gazed, And cried, with suppliant hands upraised: "Farewell, dear city, first in place, Protected by Kakutstha's race!

And G.o.ds, who in thy temples dwell, And keep thine ancient citadel!

I from his debt my sire will free, Thy well-loved towers again will see, And, coming from my wild retreat, My mother and my father meet."

Then burning grief inflamed his eye, As his right arm he raised on high, And, while hot tears his cheek bedewed, Addressed the mournful mult.i.tude: "By love and tender pity moved, Your love for me you well have proved; Now turn again with joy, and win Success in all your hands begin."

Before the high souled chief they bent, With circling steps around him went, And then with bitter wailing, they Departed each his several way.

Like the great sun engulfed by night, The hero sped beyond their sight, While still the people mourned his fate And wept aloud disconsolate.

The car-borne chieftain pa.s.sed the bound Of Kosala's delightful ground, Where grain and riches bless the land, And people give with liberal hand: A lovely realm unvexed by fear, Where countless shrines and stakes(323) appear: Where mango-groves and gardens grow, And streams of pleasant water flow: Where dwells content a well-fed race, And countless kine the meadows grace: Filled with the voice of praise and prayer: Each hamlet worth a monarch's care.

Before him three-pathed Ganga rolled Her heavenly waters bright and cold; O'er her pure breast no weeds were spread, Her banks were hermit-visited.

The car-borne hero saw the tide That ran with eddies multiplied, And thus the charioteer addressed: "Here on the bank to-day we rest.

Not distant from the river, see!

There grows a lofty Ingudi With blossoms thick on every spray: There rest we, charioteer, to-day.

I on the queen of floods will gaze, Whose holy stream has highest praise, Where deer, and bird, and glittering snake, G.o.d, Daitya, bard their pastime take."

Sumantra, Lakshma? gave a.s.sent, And with the steeds they thither went.

When Rama reached the lovely tree, With Sita and with Lakshma?, he Alighted from the car: with speed Sumantra loosed each weary steed.

And, hand to hand in reverence laid, Stood near to Rama in the shade.

Rama's dear friend, renowned by fame, Who of Nishada lineage came, Guha, the mighty chief, adored Through all the land as sovereign lord, Soon as he heard that prince renowned Was resting on Nishada ground, Begirt by counsellor and peer And many an honoured friend drew near.

Soon as the monarch came in view, Rama and Lakshma? toward him flew.

Then Guha, at the sight distressed, His arms around the hero pressed, Laid both his hands upon his head Bowed to those lotus feet, and said: "O Rama, make thy wishes known, And be this kingdom as thine own.

Who, mighty-armed, will ever see A guest so dear as thou to me?"

He placed before him dainty fare Of every flavour, rich and rare, Brought forth the gift for honoured guest, And thus again the chief addressed: "Welcome, dear Prince, whose arms are strong; These lands and all to thee belong.

Thy servants we, our lord art thou; Begin, good king, thine empire now.

See, various food before thee placed, And cups to drink and sweets to taste For thee soft beds are hither borne, And for thy horses gra.s.s and corn."

To Guha as he pressed and prayed, Thus Raghu's son his answer made: "'Twas aye thy care my heart to please With honour, love, and courtesies, And friendship brings thee now to greet Thy guest thus humbly on thy feet."

Again the hero spake, as round The king his shapely arms he wound: "Guha, I see that all is well With thee and those who with thee dwell; That health and bliss and wealth attend Thy realm, thyself, and every friend.

But all these friendly gifts of thine, Bound to refuse, I must decline.

Gra.s.s, bark, and hide my only wear, And woodland roots and fruit my fare, On duty all my heart is set; I seek the woods, an anch.o.r.et.

A little gra.s.s and corn to feed The horses-this is all I need.

So by this favour, King, alone Shall honour due to me be shown.

For these good steeds who brought me here Are to my sire supremely dear; And kind attention paid to these Will honour me and highly please."

Then Guha quickly bade his train Give water to the steeds, and grain.

And Rama, ere the night grew dark, Paid evening rites in dress of bark, And tasted water, on the strand, Drawn from the stream by Lakshma?'s hand.

And Lakshma? with observance meet Bathed his beloved brother's feet, Who rested with his Maithil spouse: Then sat him down 'neath distant boughs.

And Guha with his bow sat near To Lakshma? and the charioteer, And with the prince conversing kept His faithful watch while Rama slept.

As Dasaratha's glorious heir, Of lofty soul and wisdom rare, Reclining with his Sita there Beside the river lay- He who no troubles e'er had seen, Whose life a life of bliss had been- That night beneath the branches green Pa.s.sed pleasantly away.

Canto LI. Lakshman's Lament.

As Lakshma? still his vigil held By unaffected love impelled, Guha, whose heart the sight distressed, With words like these the prince addressed: "Beloved youth, this pleasant bed Was brought for thee, for thee is spread; On this, my Prince, thine eyelids close, And heal fatigue with sweet repose.

My men are all to labour trained, But hardship thou hast ne'er sustained.