Valmiki

Rámáyan of Válmíki (World's Classics Series)


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saw,

      Kabandha named, a shape of awe.

      The monstrous fiend he smote and slew,

      And in the flame the body threw;

      When straight from out the funeral flame

      In lovely form Kabandha came,

      And bade him seek in his distress

      A wise and holy hermitess.

      By counsel of this saintly dame

      To Pampá‘s pleasant flood he came,

      And there the steadfast friendship won

      Of Hanumán the Wind-God’s son.

      Counselled by him he told his grief

      To great Sugríva, Vánar chief,

      Who, knowing all the tale, before

      The sacred flame alliance swore.

      Sugríva to his new-found friend

      Told his own story to the end:

      His hate of Báli for the wrong

      And insult he had borne so long.

      And Ráma lent a willing ear

      And promised to allay his fear.

      Sugríva warned him of the might

      Of Báli, matchless in the fight,

      And, credence for his tale to gain,

      The prostrate corse of mountain size

      Seemed nothing in the hero’s eyes;

      He lightly kicked it, as it lay,

      To prove his might his arrows through

      Seven palms in line, uninjured, flew.

      He cleft a mighty hill apart,

      And down to hell he hurled his dart.

      Then high Sugríva’s spirit rose,

      Assured of conquest o’er his foes.

      With his new champion by his side

      To vast Kishkindhá‘s cave he hied.

      Then, summoned by his awful shout,

      King Báli came in fury out,

      First comforted his trembling wife,

      Then sought Sugríva in the strife.

      One shaft from Ráma’s deadly bow

      The monarch in the dust laid low.

      Then Ráma bade Sugríva reign

      In place of royal Báli slain.

      Then speedy envoys hurried forth

      Eastward and westward, south and north,

      Commanded by the grateful king

      Tidings of Ráma’s spouse to bring.

      Then by Sampáti’s counsel led,

      Brave Hanumán, who mocked at dread,

      Sprang at one wild tremendous leap

      Two hundred leagues across the deep.

      Where Rávaṇ held his royal sway.

      He found poor Sítá, Ráma’s spouse.

      He gave the hapless girl a ring,

      A token from her lord and king.

      A pledge from her fair hand he bore;

      Then battered down the garden door.

      Five captains of the host he slew,

      Seven sons of councillors o’erthrew;

      Crushed youthful Aksha on the field,

      Then to his captors chose to yield.

      Soon from their bonds his limbs were free,

      But honouring the high decree

      He calmly all their insults bore.

      The town he burnt with hostile flame,

      And spoke again with Ráma’s dame,

      Then swiftly back to Ráma flew

      With tidings of the interview.

      Then with Sugríva for his guide,

      Came Ráma to the ocean side.

      He smote the sea with shafts as bright

      As sunbeams in their summer height,

      Obedient to the summoning.

      A bridge was thrown by Nala o’er

      They crossed to Lanká‘s golden town,

      Where Ráma’s hand smote Rávaṇ down.

      Vibhishaṇ there was left to reign

      Over his brother’s wide domain.

      To meet her husband Sítá came;

      But Ráma, stung with ire and shame,

      With bitter words his wife addressed

      Before the crowd that round her pressed.

      But Sítá, touched with noble ire,

      Gave her fair body to the fire.

      Then straight the God of Wind appeared,

      And words from heaven her honour cleared.

      And Ráma clasped his wife again,

      Uninjured, pure from spot and stain,

      Obedient to the Lord of Fire

      And the high mandate of his sire.

      Led by the Lord who rules the sky,

      The Gods and heavenly saints drew nigh,

      And honoured him with worthy meed,

      Rejoicing in each glorious deed.

      His task achieved, his foe removed,

      He triumphed, by the Gods approved.

      By grace of Heaven he raised to life

      The chieftains slain in mortal strife;

      Then in the magic chariot through

      The clouds to Nandigráma flew.

      Met by his faithful brothers there,

      He loosed his votive coil of hair:

      Thence