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The Sanskrit Epics

Page 35

by Delphi Classics


  Come with me, as my will allows,

  And duty there with me pursue,

  Trembler, whose bright eyes thrill me through.

  In all thy days, come good come ill,

  Preserve unchanged such noble will,

  And thou, dear love, wilt ever be

  The glory of thy house and me.

  Now, beauteous-armed, begin the tasks

  The woodland life of hermits asks.

  For me the joys of heaven above

  Have charms no more without thee, love.

  And now, dear Sítá, be not slow:

  Food on good mendicants bestow,

  And for the holy Bráhmans bring

  Thy treasures and each precious thing.

  Thy best attire and gems collect,

  The jewels which thy beauty decked,

  And every ornament and toy

  Prepared for hours of sport and joy:

  The beds, the cars wherein I ride,

  Among our followers, next, divide.”

  She conscious that her lord approved

  Her going, with great rapture moved,

  Hastened within, without delay,

  Prepared to give their wealth away.

  Canto XXXI. Lakshman’s Prayer.

  WHEN LAKSHMAṆ, WHO had joined them there,

  Had heard the converse of the pair,

  His mien was changed, his eyes o’erflowed,

  His breast no more could bear its load.

  The son of Raghu, sore distressed,

  His brother’s feet with fervour pressed,

  While thus to Sítá he complained,

  And him by lofty vows enchained:

  “If thou wilt make the woods thy home,

  Where elephant and roebuck roam,

  I too this day will take my bow

  And in the path before thee go.

  Our way will lie through forest ground

  Where countless birds and beasts are found,

  I heed not homes of Gods on high,

  I heed not life that cannot die,

  Nor would I wish, with thee away,

  O’er the three worlds to stretch my sway.”

  Thus Lakshmaṇ spake, with earnest prayer

  His brother’s woodland life to share.

  As Ráma still his prayer denied

  With soothing words, again he cried:

  “When leave at first thou didst accord,

  Why dost thou stay me now, my lord?

  Thou art my refuge: O, be kind,

  Leave me not, dear my lord, behind.

  Thou canst not, brother, if thou choose

  That I still live, my wish refuse.”

  The glorious chief his speech renewed

  To faithful Lakshmaṇ as he sued,

  And on the eyes of Ráma gazed

  Longing to lead, with hands upraised:

  “Thou art a hero just and dear,

  Whose steps to virtue’s path adhere,

  Loved as my life till life shall end,

  My faithful brother and my friend.

  If to the woods thou take thy way

  With Sítá and with me to-day,

  Who for Kauśalyá will provide,

  And guard the good Sumitrá’s side?

  The lord of earth, of mighty power,

  Who sends good things in plenteous shower,

  As Indra pours the grateful rain,

  A captive lies in passion’s chain.

  The power imperial for her son

  Has Aśvapati’s daughter306 won,

  And she, proud queen, will little heed

  Her miserable rivals’ need.

  So Bharat, ruler of the land,

  By Queen Kaikeyí’s side will stand,

  Nor of those two will ever think,

  While grieving in despair they sink.

  Now, Lakshmaṇ, as thy love decrees,

  Or else the monarch’s heart to please,

  Follow this counsel and protect

  My honoured mother from neglect.

  So thou, while not to me alone

  Thy great affection will be shown,

  To highest duty wilt adhere

  By serving those thou shouldst revere.

  Now, son of Raghu, for my sake

  Obey this one request I make,

  Or, of her darling son bereft,

  Kauśalyá has no comfort left.”

  The faithful Lakshmaṇ, thus addressed

  In gentle words which love expressed,

  To him in lore of language learned,

  His answer, eloquent, returned:

  “Nay, through thy might each queen will share

  Attentive Bharat’s love and care,

  Should Bharat, raised as king to sway

  This noblest realm, his trust betray,

  Nor for their safety well provide,

  Seduced by ill-suggesting pride,

  Doubt not my vengeful hand shall kill

  The cruel wretch who counsels ill —

  Kill him and all who lend him aid,

  And the three worlds in league arrayed.

  And good Kauśalyá well can fee

  A thousand champions like to me.

  A thousand hamlets rich in grain

  The station of that queen maintain.

  She may, and my dear mother too,

  Live on the ample revenue.

  Then let me follow thee: herein:

  Is naught that may resemble sin.

  So shall I in my wish succeed,

  And aid, perhaps, my brother’s need.

  My bow and quiver well supplied

  With arrows hanging at my side,

  My hands shall spade and basket bear,

  And for thy feet the way prepare.

  I’ll bring thee roots and berries sweet.

  And woodland fare which hermits eat.

  Thou shall with thy Videhan spouse

  Recline upon the mountain’s brows;

  Be mine the toil, be mine to keep

  Watch o’er thee waking or asleep.”

  Filled by his speech with joy and pride,

  Ráma to Lakshmaṇ thus replied:

  “Go then, my brother, bid adieu

  To all thy friends and retinue.

  And those two bows of fearful might,

  Celestial, which, at that famed rite,

  Lord Varuṇ gave to Janak, king

  Of fair Vedeha with thee bring,

  With heavenly coats of sword-proof mail,

  Quivers, whose arrows never fail,

  And golden-hilted swords so keen,

  The rivals of the sun in sheen.

  Tended with care these arms are all

  Preserved in my preceptor’s hall.

  With speed, O Lakshmaṇ, go, produce,

  And bring them hither for our use.”

  So on a woodland life intent,

  To see his faithful friends he went,

  And brought the heavenly arms which lay

  By Ráma’s teacher stored away.

  And Raghu’s son to Ráma showed

  Those wondrous arms which gleamed and glowed,

  Well kept, adorned with many a wreath

  Of flowers on case, and hilt, and sheath.

  The prudent Ráma at the sight

  Addressed his brother with delight:

  “Well art thou come, my brother dear,

  For much I longed to see thee here.

  For with thine aid, before I go,

  I would my gold and wealth bestow

  Upon the Bráhmans sage, who school

  Their lives by stern devotion’s rule.

  And for all those who ever dwell

  Within my house and serve me well,

  Devoted servants, true and good,

  Will I provide a livelihood.

  Quick, go and summon to this place

  The good Vaśishṭha’s son,

  Suyajǹa, of the Bráhman race

  The first and holiest one.

  To all t
he Bráhmans wise and good

  Will I due reverence pay,

  Then to the solitary wood

  With thee will take my way.”

  Canto XXXII. The Gift Of The Treasures.

  THAT SPEECH SO noble which conveyed

  His friendly wish, the chief obeyed,

  With steps made swift by anxious thought

  The wise Suyajǹa’s home he sought.

  Him in the hall of Fire307 he found,

  And bent before him to the ground:

  “O friend, to Ráma’s house return,

  Who now performs a task most stern.”

  He, when his noonday rites were done,

  Went forth with fair Sumitrá’s son,

  And came to Ráma’s bright abode

  Rich in the love which Lakshmí showed.

  The son of Raghu, with his dame,

  With joined hands met him as he came,

  Showing to him who Scripture knew

  The worship that is Agni’s due.

  With armlets, bracelets, collars, rings,

  With costly pearls on golden strings,

  With many a gem for neck and limb

  The son of Raghu honoured him.

  Then Ráma, at his wife’s request,

  The wise Suyajǹa thus addressed:

  “Accept a necklace too to deck

  With golden strings thy spouse’s neck.

  And Sítá here, my friend, were glad

  A girdle to her gift to add.

  And many a bracelet wrought with care,

  And many an armlet rich and rare,

  My wife to thine is fain to give,

  Departing in the wood to live.

  A bed by skilful workmen made,

  With gold and various gems inlaid —

  This too, before she goes, would she

  Present, O saintly friend, to thee.

  Thine be my elephant, so famed,

  My uncle’s present, Victor named;

  And let a thousand coins of gold,

  Great Bráhman, with the gift be told.”

  Thus Ráma spoke: nor he declined

  The noble gifts for him designed.

  On Ráma, Lakshmaṇ, Sítá he

  Invoked all high felicity.

  In pleasant words then Ráma gave

  His best to Lakshmaṇ prompt and brave,

  As Brahmá speaks for Him to hear

  Who rules the Gods’ celestial sphere:

  “To the two best of Bráhmans run;

  Agastya bring, and Kuśik’s son,

  And precious gifts upon them rain,

  Like fostering floods upon the grain.

  O long-armed Prince of Raghu’s line,

  Delight them with a thousand kine,

  And many a fair and costly gem,

  With gold and silver, give to them.

  To him, so deep in Scripture, who,

  To Queen Kauśalyá, ever true,

  Serves her with blessing and respect,

  Chief of the Taittiríya sect308 —

  To him, with women-slaves, present

  A chariot rich with ornament,

  And costly robes of silk beside,

  Until the sage be satisfied.

  On Chitraratha, true and dear,

  My tuneful bard and charioteer,

  Gems, robes, and plenteous wealth confer —

  Mine ancient friend and minister.

  And these who go with staff in hand,

  Grammarians trained, a numerous band,

  Who their deep study only prize,

  Nor think of other exercise,

  Who toil not, loving dainty fare,

  Whose praises e’en the good declare —

  On these be eighty cars bestowed,

  And each with precious treasures load.

  A thousand bulls for them suffice,

  Two hundred elephants of price,

  And let a thousand kine beside

  The dainties of each meal provide.

  The throng who sacred girdles wear,

  And on Kauśalyá wait with care —

  A thousand golden coins shall please,

  Son of Sumitrá, each of these.

  Let all, dear Lakshmaṇ of the train

  These special gifts of honour gain:

  My mother will rejoice to know

  Her Bráhmans have been cherished so.”

  Then Raghu’s son addressed the crowd

  Who round him stood and wept aloud,

  When he to all who thronged the court

  Had dealt his wealth for their support:

  “In Lakshmaṇ’s house and mine remain,

  And guard them till I come again.”

  To all his people sad with grief,

  In loving words thus spoke their chief,

  Then bade his treasure-keeper bring

  Gold, silver, and each precious thing.

  Then straight the servants went and bore

  Back to their chief the wealth in store.

  Before the people’s eyes it shone,

  A glorious pile to look upon.

  The prince of men with Lakshmaṇ’s aid

  Parted the treasures there displayed,

  Gave to the poor, the young, the old,

  And twice-born men, the gems and gold.

  A Bráhman, long in evil case,

  Named Trijaṭ, born of Garga’s race,

  Earned ever toiling in a wood

  With spade and plough his livelihood.

  The youthful wife, his babes who bore,

  Their indigence felt more and more.

  Thus to the aged man she spake:

  “Hear this my word: my counsel take.

  Come, throw thy spade and plough away;

  To virtuous Ráma go to-day,

  And somewhat of his kindness pray.”

  He heard the words she spoke: around

  His limbs his ragged cloth he wound,

  And took his journey by the road

  That led to Ráma’s fair abode.

  To the fifth court he made his way;

  Nor met the Bráhman check or stay.

  Brighu, Angiras309 could not be

  Brighter with saintly light than he.

  To Ráma’s presence on he pressed,

  And thus the noble chief addressed:

  “O Ráma, poor and weak am I,

  And many children round me cry.

  Scant living in the woods I earn:

  On me thine eye of pity turn.”

  And Ráma, bent on sport and jest,

  The suppliant Bráhman thus addressed:

  “O aged man, one thousand kine,

  Yet undistributed, are mine.

  The cows on thee will I bestow

  As far as thou thy staff canst throw.”

  The Bráhman heard. In eager haste

  He bound his cloth around his waist.

  Then round his head his staff he whirled,

  And forth with mightiest effort hurled.

  Cast from his hand it flew, and sank

  To earth on Sarjú’s farther bank,

  Where herds of kine in thousands fed

  Near to the well-stocked bullock shed.

  And all the cows that wandered o’er

  The meadow, far as Sarjú’s shore,

  At Ráma’s word the herdsmen drove

  To Trijaṭ’s cottage in the grove.

  He drew the Bráhman to his breast,

  And thus with calming words addressed:

  “Now be not angry, Sire. I pray:

  This jest of mine was meant in play.

  These thousand kine, but not alone.

  Their herdsmen too, are all thine own.

  And wealth beside I give thee: speak,

  Thine shall be all thy heart can seek.”

  Thus Ráma spake. And Trijaṭ prayed

  For means his sacrifice to aid.

  And Ráma gave much wealth, required

  To speed his offering as desired.

  Canto
XXXIII. The People’s Lament.

  THUS SÍTÁ AND the princes brave

  Much wealth to all the Bráhmans gave.

  Then to the monarch’s house the three

  Went forth the aged king to see.

  The princes from two servants took

  Those heavenly arms of glorious look,

  Adorned with garland and with band

  By Sítá’s beautifying hand.

  On each high house a mournful throng

  Had gathered ere they passed along,

  Who gazed in pure unselfish woe

  From turret, roof, and portico.

  So dense the crowd that blocked the ways,

  The rest, unable there to gaze,

  Were fain each terrace to ascend,

  And thence their eyes on Ráma bend.

  Then as the gathered multitude

  On foot their well-loved Ráma viewed,

  No royal shade to screen his head,

  Such words, disturbed in grief, they said:

  “O look, our hero, wont to ride

  Leading a host in perfect pride —

  Now Lakshmaṇ, sole of all his friends,

  With Sítá on his steps attends.

  Though he has known the sweets of power,

  And poured his gifts in liberal shower,

  From duty’s path he will not swerve,

  But, still his father’s truth preserve.

  And she whose form so soft and fair

  Was veiled from spirits of the air,

  Now walks unsheltered from the day,

  Seen by the crowds who throng the way.

  Ah, for that gently-nurtured form!

  How will it fade with sun and storm!

  How will the rain, the cold, the heat

  Mar fragrant breast and tinted feet!

  Surely some demon has possessed

  His sire, and speaks within his breast,

  Or how could one that is a king

  Thus send his dear son wandering?

  It were a deed unkindly done

  To banish e’en a worthless son:

  But what, when his pure life has gained

  The hearts of all, by love enchained?

  Six sovereign virtues join to grace

  Ráma the foremost of his race:

  Tender and kind and pure is he,

  Docile, religious, passion-free.

  Hence misery strikes not him alone:

  In bitterest grief the people moan,

  Like creatures of the stream, when dry

  In the great heat the channels lie.

  The world is mournful with the grief

  That falls on its beloved chief,

  As, when the root is hewn away,

  Tree, fruit, and flower, and bud decay.

  The soul of duty, bright to see,

  He is the root of you and me;

  And all of us, who share his grief,

  His branches, blossom, fruit, and leaf.

 

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