The Ramayana Part 80

Then Rama, as his brother prayed Beneath his feet the sandals laid, And these with fond affection gave To Bharat's hand, the good and brave.

Then Bharat bowed his reverent head And thus again to Rama said: "Through fourteen seasons will I wear The hermit's dress and matted hair: With fruit and roots my life sustain, And still beyond the realm remain, Longing for thee to come again.

The rule and all affairs of state I to these shoes will delegate.

And if, O tamer of thy foes, When fourteen years have reached their close, I see thee not that day return, The kindled fire my frame shall burn."

Then Rama to his bosom drew Dear Bharat and Satrughna too: "Be never wroth," he cried, "with her, Kaikeyi's guardian minister: This, glory of Ikshvaku's line, Is Sita's earnest prayer and mine."

He spoke, and as the big tears fell, To his dear brother bade farewell.

Round Rama, Bharat strong and bold In humble reverence paced, When the bright sandals wrought with gold Above his brows were placed.

The royal elephant who led The glorious pomp he found, And on the monster's mighty head Those sandals duly bound.

Then n.o.ble Rama, born to swell The glories of his race, To all in order bade farewell With love and tender grace- To brothers, counsellers, and peers,- Still firm, in duty proved, Firm, as the Lord of Snow uprears His mountains unremoved.

No queen, for choking sobs and sighs, Could say her last adieu: Then Rama bowed, with flooded eyes, And to his cot withdrew.

Canto CXIII. Bharat's Return.

Bearing the sandals on his head Away triumphant Bharat sped, And clomb, Satrughna by his side, The car wherein he wont to ride.

Before the mighty army went The lords for counsel eminent, Vasish?ha, Vamadeva next, Javali, pure with prayer and text.

Then from that lovely river they Turned eastward on their homeward way: With reverent steps from left to right They circled Chitraku?a's height, And viewed his peaks on every side With stains of thousand metals dyed.

Then Bharat saw, not far away, Where Bharadvaja's dwelling lay, And when the chieftain bold and sage Had reached that holy hermitage, Down from the car he sprang to greet The saint, and bowed before his feet.

High rapture filled the hermit's breast, Who thus the royal prince addressed: "Say, Bharat, is thy duty done?

Hast thou with Rama met, my son?"

The chief whose soul to virtue clave This answer to the hermit gave: "I prayed him with our holy guide: But Raghu's son our prayer denied, And long besought by both of us He answered Saint Vasish?ha thus: "True to my vow, I still will be Observant of my sire's decree: Till fourteen years complete their course That promise shall remain in force."

The saint in highest wisdom taught, These solemn words with wisdom fraught, To him in lore of language learned Most eloquent himself returned: "Obey my rede: let Bharat hold This pair of sandals decked with gold: They in Ayodhya shall ensure Our welfare, and our bliss secure."

When Rama heard the royal priest He rose, and looking to the east Consigned the sandals to my hand That they for him might guard the land.

Then from the high-souled chief's abode I turned upon my homeward road, Dismissed by him, and now this pair Of sandals to Ayodhya bear."

To him the hermit thus replied, By Bharat's tidings gratified: "No marvel thoughts so just and true, Thou best of all who right pursue, Should dwell in thee, O Prince of men, As waters gather in the glen.

He is not dead, we mourn in vain: Thy blessed father lives again, Whose n.o.ble son we thus behold Like Virtue's self in human mould."

He ceased: before him Bharat fell To clasp his feet, and said farewell: His reverent steps around him bent, And onward to Ayodhya went.

His host of followers stretching far With many an elephant and car, Waggon and steed, and mighty train, Traversed their homeward way again.

O'er holy Yamuna they sped, Fair stream, with waves engarlanded, And then once more the rivers' queen, The blessed Ganga's self was seen.

Then making o'er that flood his way, Where crocodiles and monsters lay, The king to Sringavera drew His host and royal retinue.

His onward way he thence pursued, And soon renowned Ayodhya viewed.

Then burnt by woe and sad of cheer Bharat addressed the charioteer: "Ah, see, Ayodhya dark and sad, Her glory gone, once bright and glad: Of joy and beauty reft, forlorn, In silent grief she seems to mourn."

Canto CXIV. Bharat's Departure.

Deep, pleasant was the chariot's sound As royal Bharat, far renowned, Whirled by his mettled coursers fast Within Ayodhya's city pa.s.sed.

There dark and drear was every home Where cats and owls had s.p.a.ce to roam, As when the shades of midnight fall With blackest gloom, and cover all: As Rohi?i, dear spouse of him Whom Rahu hates,(396) grows faint and dim, When, as she shines on high alone The demon's shade is o'er her thrown: As burnt by summer's heat a rill Scarce trickling from her parent hill, With dying fish in pools half dried, And fainting birds upon her side: As sacrificial flames arise When holy oil their food supplies, But when no more the fire is fed Sink l.u.s.treless and cold and dead: Like some brave host that filled the plain, With harness rent and captains slain, When warrior, elephant, and steed Mingled in wild confusion bleed: As when, all spent her store of worth, Rocks from her base the loosened earth: Like a sad fallen star no more Wearing the lovely light it wore: So mournful in her lost estate Was that sad town disconsolate.

Then car-borne Bharat, good and brave, Thus spake to him the steeds who drave: "Why are Ayodhya's streets so mute?

Where is the voice of lyre and lute?

Why sounds not, as of old, to-day The music of the minstrel's lay?

Where are the wreaths they used to twine?

Where are the blossoms and the wine?

Where is the cool refreshing scent Of sandal dust with aloe blent?

The elephant's impatient roar, The din of cars, I hear no more: No more the horse's pleasant neigh Rings out to meet me on my way.

Ayodhya's youths, since Rama's flight, Have lost their relish for delight: Her men roam forth no more, nor care Bright garlands round their necks to wear.

All grieve for banished Rama: feast, And revelry and song have ceased: Like a black night when floods pour down, So dark and gloomy is the town.

When will he come to make them gay Like some auspicious holiday?

When will my brother, like a cloud At summer's close, make glad the crowd?"

Then through the streets the hero rode, And pa.s.sed within his sire's abode, Like some deserted lion's den, Forsaken by the lord of men.

Then to the inner bowers he came, Once happy home of many a dame, Now gloomy, sad, and drear, Dark as of old that sunless day When wept the G.o.ds in wild dismay;(397) There poured he many a tear.

Canto CXV. Nandigram.(398)

Then when the pious chief had seen Lodged in her home each widowed queen, Still with his burning grief oppressed His holy guides he thus addressed: "I go to Nandigram: adieu, This day, my lords to all of you: I go, my load of grief to bear, Reft of the son of Raghu, there.

The king my sire, alas, is dead, And Rama to the forest fled; There will I wait till he, restored, Shall rule the realm, its rightful lord."

They heard the high-souled prince's speech, And thus with ready answer each Of those great lords their chief addressed, With saint Vasish?ha and the rest: "Good are the words which thou hast said, By brotherly affection led, Like thine own self, a faithful friend, True to thy brother to the end: A heart like thine must all approve, Which naught from virtue's path can move."

Soon as the words he loved to hear Fell upon Bharat's joyful ear, Thus to the charioteer he spoke: "My car with speed, Sumantra, yoke."

Then Bharat with delighted mien Obeisance paid to every queen, And with Satrughna by his side Mounting the car away he hied.

With lords, and priests in long array The brothers hastened on their way.

And the great pomp the Brahmans led With Saint Vasish?ha at their head.

Then every face was eastward bent As on to Nandigram they went.

Behind the army followed, all Unsummoned by their leader's call, And steeds and elephants and men Streamed forth with every citizen.

As Bharat in his chariot rode His heart with love fraternal glowed, And with the sandals on his head To Nandigram he quickly sped.

Within the town he swiftly pressed, Alighted, and his guides addressed: "To me in trust my brother's hand Consigned the lordship of the land, When he these gold-wrought sandals gave As emblems to protect and save."

Then Bharat bowed, and from his head The sacred pledge deposited, And thus to all the people cried Who ringed him round on every side: "Haste, for these sandals quickly bring The canopy that shades the king.

Pay ye to them all reverence meet As to my elder brother's feet, For they will right and law maintain Until King Rama come again.

My brother with a loving mind These sandals to my charge consigned: I till he come will guard with care The sacred trust for Raghu's heir.

My watchful task will soon be done, The pledge restored to Raghu's son; Then shall I see, his wanderings o'er, These sandals on his feet once more.

My brother I shall meet at last, The burthen from my shoulders cast, To Rama's hand the realm restore And serve my elder as before.

When Rama takes again this pair Of sandals kept with pious care, And here his glorious reign begins, I shall be cleansed from all my sins, When the glad people's voices ring With welcome to the new-made king, Joy will be mine four-fold as great As if supreme I ruled the state."

Thus humbly spoke in sad lament The chief in fame preeminent: Thus, by his reverent lords obeyed, At Nandigram the kingdom swayed.

With hermit's dress and matted hair He dwelt with all his army there.

The sandals of his brother's feet Installed upon the royal seat, He, all his powers to them referred, Affairs of state administered.

In every care, in every task, When golden store was brought, He first, as though their rede to ask, Those royal sandals sought.

Canto CXVI. The Hermit's Speech.