Valmiki

Rámáyan of Válmíki (World's Classics Series)


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sages, holy saints, had he,

      His ministers and priests to be:

      Vaśishṭha, faithful to advise,

      And Vámadeva, Scripture-wise.

      Eight other lords around him stood,

      All skilled to counsel, wise and good:

      Jayanta, Vijay, Dhrishṭi bold

      In fight, affairs of war controlled:

      Siddhárth and Arthasádhak true

      Watched o’er expense and revenue,

      And Dharmapál and wise Aśok

      Of right and law and justice spoke.

      With these the sage Sumantra, skilled

      To urge the car, high station filled.

      All these in knowledge duly trained

      Each passion and each sense restrained:

      With modest manners, nobly bred

      Each plan and nod and look they read,

      Upon their neighbours’ good intent,

      Most active and benevolent:

      They sate around him counselling.

      They ne’er in virtue’s loftier pride

      Another’s lowly gifts decried.

      In fair and seemly garb arrayed,

      No weak uncertain plans they made.

      Well skilled in business, fair and just,

      They gained the people’s love and trust,

      And thus without oppression stored

      The swelling treasury of their lord.

      Bound in sweet friendship each to each,

      They spoke kind thoughts in gentle speech.

      They looked alike with equal eye

      On every caste, on low and high.

      Devoted to their king, they sought,

      Ere his tongue spoke, to learn his thought,

      And knew, as each occasion rose,

      To hide their counsel or disclose.

      In foreign lands or in their own

      Whatever passed, to them was known.

      By secret spies they timely knew

      What men were doing or would do.

      Skilled in the grounds of war and peace

      They saw the monarch’s state increase,

      Watching his weal with conquering eye

      That never let occasion by,

      While nature lent her aid to bless

      Their labours with unbought success.

      Never for anger, lust, or gain,

      Would they their lips with falsehood stain.

      Inclined to mercy they could scan

      The weakness and the strength of man.

      They fairly judged both high and low,

      And ne’er would wrong a guiltless foe;

      Yet if a fault were proved, each one

      Would punish e’en his own dear son.

      But there and in the kingdom’s bound

      No thief or man impure was found:

      None of loose life or evil fame,

      No tempter of another’s dame.

      Contented with their lot each caste

      Calm days in blissful quiet passed;

      And, all in fitting tasks employed,

      Country and town deep rest enjoyed,

      With these wise lords around his throne

      The monarch justly reigned,

      And making every heart his own

      The love of all men gained.

      With trusty agents, as beseems,

      Each distant realm he scanned,

      As the sun visits with his beams

      Each corner of the land.

      Ne’er would he on a mightier foe

      With hostile troops advance,

      Nor at an equal strike a blow

      In war’s delusive chance.

      These lords in council bore their part

      With ready brain and faithful heart,

      With skill and knowledge, sense and tact,

      Good to advise and bold to act.

      And high and endless fame he won

      With these to guide his schemes,

      As, risen in his might, the sun

      Wins glory with his beams.

      Canto 8. Sumantra’s Speech.

      But splendid, just, and great of mind,

      The childless king for offspring pined.

      No son had he his name to grace,

      Transmitter of his royal race.

      Long had his anxious bosom wrought,

      And as he pondered rose the thought:

      “A votive steed ’twere good to slay,

      So might a son the gift repay.”

      Before his lords his plan he laid,

      And bade them with their wisdom aid:

      Then with these words Sumantra, best

      Of royal counsellors, addressed:

      “Hither, Vaśishṭha at their head,

      Let all my priestly guides be led.”

      To him Sumantra made reply:

      “Hear, Sire, a tale of days gone by.

      To many a sage in time of old,

      Sanatkumár, the saint, foretold

      How from thine ancient line, O King,

      A son, when years came round, should spring.

      “Here dwells,” ’twas thus the seer began,

      Vibháṇdak named: to him shall spring

      A son, the famous Rishyaśring.

      Bred with the deer that round him roam,

      The wood shall be that hermit’s home.

      To him no mortal shall be known

      Except his holy sire alone.

      Still by those laws shall he abide

      Which lives of youthful Bráhmans