Valmiki

Rámáyan of Válmíki (World's Classics Series)


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deity.

      All heroes, versed in holy lore,

      To all mankind great love they bore.

      Fair stores of wisdom all possessed,

      With princely graces all were blest.

      But mid those youths of high descent,

      With lordly light preëminent.

      Like the full moon unclouded, shone

      Ráma, the world’s dear paragon.

      Urge the fleet car, the charger ride:

      A master he of bowman’s skill,

      Joying to do his father’s will.

      The world’s delight and darling, he

      Loved Lakshmaṇ best from infancy

      And Lakshmaṇ, lord of lofty fate,

      Upon his elder joyed to wait,

      Striving his second self to please

      With friendship’s sweet observances.

      His limbs the hero ne’er would rest

      Unless the couch his brother pressed;

      Except beloved Ráma shared

      He could not taste the meal prepared.

      When Ráma, pride of Reghu’s race,

      Sprang on his steed to urge the chase,

      Behind him Lakshmaṇ loved to go

      And guard him with his trusty bow.

      As Ráma was to Lakshmaṇ dear

      More than his life and ever near,

      So fond Śatrughna prized above

      His very life his Bharat’s love.

      Illustrious heroes, nobly kind

      In mutual love they all combined,

      And gave their royal sire delight

      With modest grace and warrior might:

      Supported by the glorious four

      Shone Daśaratha more and more,

      As though, with every guardian God

      Who keeps the land and skies,

      The Father of all creatures trod

      The earth before men’s eyes.

      Canto 20. Visvámitra’s Visit.

      Now Daśaratha’s pious mind

      Meet wedlock for his sons designed;

      With priests and friends the king began

      To counsel and prepare his plan.

      Such thoughts engaged his bosom, when,

      To see Ayodhyá‘s lord of men,

      A mighty saint of glorious fame,

      For evil fiends that roam by night

      Disturbed him in each holy rite,

      And in their strength and frantic rage

      Assailed with witcheries the sage.

      He came to seek the monarch’s aid

      To guard the rites the demons stayed,

      Unable to a close to bring

      One unpolluted offering.

      Seeking the king in this dire strait

      He said to those who kept the gate:

      “Haste, warders, to your master run,

      And say that here stands Gádhi’s son.”

      Soon as they heard the holy man,

      To the king’s chamber swift they ran

      With minds disordered all, and spurred

      To wildest zeal by what they heard.

      On to the royal hall they sped,

      There stood and lowly bowed the head,

      And made the lord of men aware

      That the great saint was waiting there.

      The king with priest and peer arose

      And ran the sage to meet,

      As Indra from his palace goes

      Lord Brahmá‘s self to greet.

      When glowing with celestial light

      The pious hermit was in sight,

      The king, whose mien his transport showed,

      The honoured gift for guests bestowed.

      Nor did the saint that gift despise,

      Offered as holy texts advise;