The Ramayana - novelonlinefull.com
You’re read light novel The Ramayana Part 75 online at NovelOnlineFull.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit NovelOnlineFull.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
Canto C. The Meeting.
Then Bharat to Satrughna showed The spot, and eager onward strode, First bidding Saint Vasish?ha bring The widowed consorts of the king.
As by fraternal love impelled His onward course the hero held, Sumantra followed close behind Satrughna with an anxious mind: Not Bharat's self more fain could be To look on Rama's face than he.
As, speeding on, the spot he neared, Amid the hermits' homes appeared His brother's cot with leaves o'erspread, And by its side a lowly shed.
Before the shed great heaps were left Of gathered flowers and billets cleft, And on the trees hung gra.s.s and bark Rama and Lakshma?'s path to mark: And heaps of fuel to provide Against the cold stood ready dried.
The long-armed chief, as on he went In glory's light preeminent, With joyous words like these addressed The brave Satrughna and the rest: "This is the place, I little doubt, Which Bharadvaja pointed out, Not far from where we stand must be The woodland stream, Mandakini.
Here on the mountain's woody side Roam elephants in tusked pride, And ever with a roar and cry Each other, as they meet, defy.
And see those smoke-wreaths thick and dark: The presence of the flame they mark, Which hermits in the forest strive By every art to keep alive.
O happy me! my task is done, And I shall look on Raghu's son, Like some great saint, who loves to treat His elders with all reverence meet."
Thus Bharat reached that forest rill, Thus roamed on Chitraku?a's hill; Then pity in his breast awoke, And to his friends the hero spoke: "Woe, woe upon my life and birth!
The prince of men, the lord of earth Has sought the lonely wood to dwell Sequestered in a hermit's cell.
Through me, through me these sorrows fall On him the splendid lord of all: Through me resigning earthly bliss He hides him in a home like this.
Now will I, by the world abhorred, Fall at the dear feet of my lord, And at fair Sita's too, to win His pardon for my heinous sin."
As thus he sadly mourned and sighed, The son of Dasaratha spied A bower of leafy branches made, Sacred and lovely in the shade, Of fair proportions large and tall, Well roofed with boughs of palm, and Sal, Arranged in order due o'erhead Like gra.s.s upon an altar spread.
Two glorious bows were gleaming there, Like Indra's(377) in the rainy air, Terror of foemen, backed with gold, Meet for the mightiest hand to hold: And quivered arrows cast a blaze Bright gleaming like the Day-G.o.d's rays: Thus serpents with their eyes aglow Adorn their capital below.(378) Great swords adorned the cottage, laid Each in a case of gold brocade; There hung the trusty shields, whereon With purest gold the bosses shone.
The brace to bind the bowman's arm, The glove to shield his hand from harm, A l.u.s.tre to the cottage lent From many a golden ornament: Safe was the cot from fear of men As from wild beasts the lion's den.
The fire upon the altar burned, That to the north and east was turned.
Bharat his eager glances bent And gazed within the cot intent; In deerskin dress, with matted hair, Rama his chief was sitting there: With lion-shoulders broad and strong, With lotus eyes, arms thick and long.
The righteous sovereign, who should be Lord paramount from sea to sea, High-minded, born to lofty fate, Like Brahma's self supremely great; With Lakshma? by his side, and her, Fair Sita, for his minister.
And Bharat gazing, overcome By sorrow for a while was dumb, Then, yielding to his woe, he ran To Rama and with sobs began: "He who a royal seat should fill With subjects round to do his will, My elder brother,-see him here, With silvan creatures waiting near.
The high-souled hero, wont to wear The costliest robes exceeding fair, Now banished, in a deerskin dress, Here keeps the path of righteousness.
How brooks the son of Raghu now The matted locks which load his brow, Around whose princely head were twined Sweet blossoms of the rarest kind?
The prince whose merits grew, acquired By rites performed as he desired, Would now a store of merit gain Bought by his body's toil and pain.
Those limbs to which pure sandal lent The freshness of its fragrant scent, Exposed to sun, and dust, and rain, Are now defiled with many a stain.
And I the wretched cause why this Falls on the prince whose right is bliss!
Ah me, that ever I was born To be the people's hate and scorn!"
Thus Bharat cried: of anguish sprung, Great drops upon his forehead hung.
He fell o'erpowered-his grief was such- Ere he his brother's feet could touch.
As on the glorious prince he gazed In vain his broken voice he raised: "Dear lord"-through tears and sobbing came, The only words his lips could frame.
And brave Satrughna wept aloud, As low at Rama's feet he bowed.
Then Rama, while his tears ran fast, His arms around his brothers cast.
Guha, Sumantra came to meet The princes in their wild retreat.
Vrihaspati and Sukra bright Their greeting thus rejoice to pay To the dear Lord who brings the night, And the great G.o.d who rules the day.
Then wept the dwellers of the shade, Whose eyes the princes, meet to ride On mighty elephants, surveyed; And cast all thought of joy aside.
Canto CI. Bharata Questioned.
Then Rama gazed, and scarcely knew Bharat so worn and changed in hue.
He raised him, kissed him on the head, Embraced him, and thus kindly said: "Where was thy father, brother dear, That thou art come to seek me here?
Unmeet, if he be living yet, Thy feet within the wood to set.
I pray thee now the cause declare Why thou hast left the kingdom there, With matted locks and deerskin dress To roam the distant wilderness."
Thus questioned by the prince, at length Kaikeyi's son regained his strength, And hand to hand in reverence laid, To Rama thus his answer made: "The great-armed monarch, O my lord, Has dared to do a thing abhorred, Left us, and grieving for his son, A home among the G.o.ds has won.
My mother Queen Kaikeyi gave The order to the king her slave, And at the bidding of the dame He wrought the sin which mars his fame.
Athirst for sway, her hopes are crossed, She mourns her son, her husband lost, And through her impious crime will go For punishment to h.e.l.l below.
Now O my lord, forgive me all; Be gracious to thy lowly thrall: Anointed king, accept to-day Like Indra's self, the royal sway.
Be gracious, Prince, to lord and peer, And widowed queens who seek thee here Accept the kingdom thine by right, And so thy faithful friends delight.
Let the broad land no longer be All widowed and forlorn of thee: Let the full moon of autumn reign Triumphant o'er the night again.
These lords and I before thee bend: O Rama, to our prayer attend.
O do not thou this grace deny: Thy brother, pupil, slave am I.
Look on this venerable ring, Advisers of our sire the king, From age to age so honoured: thou Shouldst grant their supplication now."
As weeping thus the hero prayed, His head at Rama's feet he laid.
Like a mad elephant he sighed: And Rama gazed and thus replied: "How, brother, can a man of worth, True to his vows, of n.o.ble birth- A man like me, commit a sin The lordship of the land to win?
No slightest shade of fault I see, O tamer of thy foes, in thee.
But ne'er shouldst thou in childish thought The queen thy mother blame in aught.
O brother wise and sinless, know The sacred laws would have it so, That from good wife and son require Obedience to their lord and sire.
And we are all the king's, for thus The virtuous ever reckon us: Yea brother, be it known to thee, His wives, and sons, and pupils we.
His is the right, if he deem fit, To bid me, throned as monarch, sit, Or in a coat of bark expel, And deerskin, in the wood to dwell.
And O remember, best of all Who act as claims of duty call, As to a virtuous sire is due, Such honour claims a mother too.
So they whose lives have ever been By duty led, the king and queen, Said, "Rama, seek the forest shade:"
And I (what could I else?) obeyed.
Thou must the royal power retain, And o'er the famed Ayodhya reign: I dressed in bark my days will spend Where Da??ak's forest wilds extend.
So Dasaratha spoke, our king, His share to each apportioning Before his honoured servants' eyes: Then, heir of bliss, he sought the skies.
The righteous monarch's honoured will, Whom all revered, must guide thee still, And thou must still enjoy the share a.s.signed thee by our father's care.
So I till twice seven years are spent Will roam this wood in banishment, Contented with the lot which he, My high-souled sire, has given me.
The charge the monarch gave, endeared To all mankind, by all revered, Peer of the Lord Supreme, Far better, richer far in gain Of every blessing than to reign O'er all the worlds I deem."
Canto CII. Bharat's Tidings.
He spoke: and Bharat thus replied: "If, false to every claim beside, I ne'er in kingly duties fail, What will my royal life avail?
Still should the custom be observed, From which our line has never swerved, Which to the younger son ne'er gives The kingdom while the elder lives.
Now to Ayodhya rich and fair With me, O Raghu's son, repair, And to protect and gladden all Our house, thyself as king install.
A king the world's opinion deems A man: to me a G.o.d he seems, Whose life in virtuous thoughts and deeds The lives of other men exceeds.
When I in distant Kekaya stayed, And thou hadst sought the forest shade, Our father died, the saints' delight, So constant in each holy rite.
Scarce with thy wife and Lakshma? thou Hadst journeyed forth to keep the vow, When mourning for his son, forspent, To heavenly rest the monarch went.
Then up, O lord of men, away!
His funeral rites of water pay: I and Satrughna, ere we came, Neglected not the sacred claim.
But in the spirit-world, they say, That gift alone is fresh for aye Which best beloved hands have poured; And thou his dearest art, my lord.
For thee he longed, for thee he grieved, His every thought on thee was bent, And crushed by woe, of thee bereaved, He thought of thee as hence he went."
Canto CIII. The Funeral Libation.