Book Read Free

The Sanskrit Epics

Page 99

by Delphi Classics


  Thick set with trees of every kind,

  With trailing shrubs and plants entwined;

  Home of the ape and monkey, lair

  Of mountain cat and pard and bear.

  In cloudy gloom against the sky

  The sanctifying hills rose high.

  Pierced in their crest, a spacious cave

  To Raghu’s sons a shelter gave.

  Then Ráma, pure from every crime,

  In words well suited to the time

  To Lakshmaṇ spake, whose faithful zeal

  Watched humbly for his brother’s weal:

  “I love this spacious cavern where

  There breathes a fresh and pleasant air.

  Brave brother, let us here remain

  Throughout the season of the rain.

  For in mine eyes this mountain crest

  Is above all, the loveliest.

  Where copper-hued and black and white

  Show the huge blocks that face the height;

  Where gleams the shine of varied ore,

  Where dark clouds hang and torrents roar;

  Where waving woods are fair to see,

  And creepers climb from tree to tree;

  Where the gay peacock’s voice is shrill,

  And sweet birds carol on the hill;

  Where odorous breath is wafted far

  From Jessamine and Sinduvár;617

  And opening flowers of every hue

  Give wondrous beauty to the view.

  See, too, this pleasant water near

  Our cavern home is fresh and clear;

  And lilies gay with flower and bud

  Are glorious on the lovely flood.

  This cave that fares north and east

  Will shelter us till rain has ceased;

  And towering hills that rise behind

  Will screen us from the furious wind.

  Close by the cavern’s portal lies

  And level stone of ample size

  And sable hue, a mighty block

  Long severed from the parent rock.

  Now let thine eye bent northward rest

  A while upon that mountain crest,

  High as a cloud that brings the rain,

  And dark as iron rent in twain.

  Look southward, brother, now and view

  A cloudy pile of paler hue

  Like Mount Kailása’s topmost height

  Where ores of every tint are bright.

  See, Lakshman, see before our cave

  That clear brook eastward roll its wave

  As though ‘twere Gangá’s infant rill

  Down streaming from the three-peaked hill.

  See, by the water’s gentle flow

  Aśoka, sál, and sandal grow.

  And every lovely tree most fair

  With leaf and bud and flower is there.

  See there, beneath the bending trees

  That fringe her bank, the river flees,

  Clothed with their beauty like a maid

  In all her robes and gems arrayed,

  While from the sedgy banks are heard

  The soft notes of each amorous bird.

  O see what lovely islets stud

  Like gems the bosom of the flood,

  And sárases and wild swans crowd

  About her till she laughs aloud.

  See, lotus blooms the brook o’erspread,

  Some tender blue, some dazzling red,

  And opening lilies white as snow

  Their buds in rich profusion show.

  There rings the joyous peacock’s scream,

  There stands the curlew by the stream,

  And holy hermits love to throng

  Where the sweet waters speed along.

  Ranged on the grassy margin shine

  Gay sandal trees in glittering line,

  And all the wondrous verdure seems

  The offspring of creative dreams.

  O conquering Prince, there cannot be

  A lovelier place than this we see.

  Here sheltered on the beauteous height

  Our days will pass in calm delight.

  Nor is Kishkindhá’s city, gay

  With grove and garden, far away.

  Thence will the breeze of evening bring

  Sweet music as the minstrels sing;

  And, when the Vánars dance, will come

  The sound of tabour and of drum.

  Again to spouse and realm restored,

  Girt by his friends, the Vánar lord

  Great glory has acquired; and how

  Can he be less than happy now?”

  This said, the son of Raghu made

  His dwelling in that pleasant shade

  Upon the mountain’s shelving side

  That sweetly all his wants supplied.

  But still the hero’s troubled mind

  No comfort in his woe could find,

  Yet mourning for his stolen wife

  Dearer to Ráma than his life,

  Chief when he saw the Lord of Night

  Rise slowly o’er the eastern height,

  He tossed upon his leafy bed

  With eyes by sleep unvisited.

  Outwelled the tears in ceaseless flow,

  And every sense was numbed by woe.

  Each pang that pierced the mourner through

  Smote Lakshmaṇ’s faithful bosom too,

  Who, troubled for his brother’s sake,

  With wisest words the prince bespake:

  “Arise, my brother, and be strong:

  Thy hero heart has mourned too long.

  Thou knowest well that tears and sighs

  Will mar the mightiest enterprise.

  Thine was the soul that loved to dare:

  To serve the Gods was still thy care;

  And ne’er may sorrow’s sting subdue

  A heart so resolute and true.

  How canst thou hope to slay in fight

  The giant cruel in his might?

  Unwearied must the champion be

  Who strives with such a foe as he.

  Tear out this sorrow by the root;

  Again be bold and resolute.

  Arise, my brother, and subdue

  The demon and his wicked crew.

  Thou canst destroy the earth, her seas,

  Her rooted hills and giant trees

  Unseated by thy furious hand:

  And shall one fiend thy power withstand?

  Wait through this season of the rain

  Till suns of autumn dry the plain,

  Then shall thy giant foe, and all

  His host and realm, before thee fall.

  I wake thy valour that has slept

  Amid the tears thine eyes have wept;

  As drops of oil in worship raise

  The dormant flame to sudden blaze.”

  The son of Raghu heard: he knew

  His brother’s rede was wise and true;

  And, honouring his friendly guide,

  In gentle words he thus replied:

  “Whate’er a hero firm and bold,

  Devoted, true, and lofty-souled

  Should speak by deep affection led,

  Such are the words which thou hast said.

  I cast away each pensive thought

  That brings the noblest plans to naught,

  And each uninjured power will strain

  Until the purposed end we gain.

  Thy prudent words will I obey,

  And till the close of rain-time stay,

  When King Sugríva will invite

  To action, and the streams be bright.

  The hero saved in hour of need

  Repays the debt with friendly deed:

  But hated by the good are they

  Who take the boon and ne’er repay.”

  Canto XXVIII. The Rains.

  “SEE, BROTHER, SEE” thus Ráma cried

  On Mályavat’s618 dark-wooded side,

  “A chain of clouds, like lofty hills,

  The
sky with gathering shadow fills.

  Nine months those clouds have borne the load

  Conceived from sunbeams as they glowed,

  And, having drunk the seas, give birth,

  And drop their offspring on the earth.

  Easy it seems at such a time

  That flight of cloudy stairs to climb,

  And, from their summit, safely won,

  Hang flowery wreaths about the sun.

  See how the flash of evening’s red

  Fringes the fleecy clouds o’erhead

  Till all the sky is streaked and lined

  With bleeding wounds incarnadined,

  Or the wide firmament above

  Shows like a lover sick with love

  And, pale with cloudlets, heaves a sigh

  In the soft breeze that wanders by.

  See, by the fervent heat embrowned,

  How drenched with recent showers, the ground

  Pours out in floods her gushing tears,

  Like Sítá wild with torturing fears.

  So softly blows this cloud-born breeze

  Cool through the boughs of camphor trees

  That one might hold it in the cup

  Of hollowed hands and drink it up.

  See, brother, where that rocky steep,

  Where odorous shrubs in rain-drops weep,

  Shows like Sugríva when they shed

  Tne royal balm upon his head.

  Like students at their task appear

  These hills whose misty peaks are near:

  Black deerskin619 garments wrought of cloud

  Their forms with fitting mantles shroud,

  Each torrent from the summit poured

  Supplies the place of sacred cord.620

  And winds that in their caverns moan

  Sound like the voice’s undertone.621

  From east to west red lightnings flash,

  And, quivering neath the golden lash,

  The great sky like a generous steed

  Groans inly at each call to speed.

  Yon lightning, as it flashes through

  The giant cloud of sable hue,

  Recalls my votaress Sítá pressed

  Mid struggles to the demon’s breast.

  See, on those mountain ridges stand

  Sweet shrubs that bud and bloom expand.

  The soft rain ends their pangs of grief,

  And drops its pearls on flower and leaf.

  But all their raptures stab me through

  And wake my pining love anew.622

  Now through the air no wild bird flies,

  Each lily shuts her weary eyes;

  And blooms of opening jasmin show

  The parting sun has ceased to glow.

  No captain now for conquest burns,

  But homeward with his host returns;

  For roads and kings’ ambitious dreams

  Have vanished neath descending streams.

  This is the watery month623 wherein

  The Sámar’s624 sacred chants begin.

  Áshádha625 past, now Kośal’s lord626

  The harvest of the spring has stored,627

  And dwells within his palace freed

  From every care of pressing need.

  Full is the moon, and fierce and strong

  Impetuous Sarjú628 roars along

  As though Ayodhyá’s crowds ran out

  To greet their king with echoing shout.

  In this sweet time of ease and rest

  No care disturbs Sugríva’s breast,

  The foe that marred his peace o’erthrown,

  And queen and realm once more his own.

  Alas, a harder fate is mine,

  Reft both of realm and queen to pine,

  And, like the bank which floods erode,

  I sink beneath my sorrow’s load.

  Sore on my soul my miseries weigh,

  And these long rains our action stay,

  While Rávan seems a mightier foe

  Than I dare hope to overthrow.

  I saw the roads were barred by rain,

  I knew the hopes of war were vain;

  Nor could I bid Sugríva rise,

  Though prompt to aid my enterprise.

  E’en now I scarce can urge my friend

  On whom his house and realm depend,

  Who, after toil and peril past,

  Is happy with his queen at last.

  Sugríva after rest will know

  The hour is come to strike the blow,

  Nor will his grateful soul forget

  My succour, or deny the debt

  I know his generous heart, and hence

  Await the time with confidence

  When he his friendly zeal will show,

  And brooks again untroubled flow.”629

  Canto XXIX. Hanumán’s Counsel.

  NO FLASH OF lightning lit the sky,

  No cloudlet marred the blue on high.

  The Saras630 missed the welcome rain,

  The moon’s full beams were bright again.

  Sugríva, lapped in bliss, forgot

  The claims of faith, or heeded not;

  And by alluring joys misled

  The path of falsehood learned to tread.

  In careless ease he passed each hour,

  And dallied in his lady’s bower.

  Each longing of his heart was stilled,

  And every lofty hope fulfilled.

  With royal Rumá by his side,

  Or Tárá yet a dearer bride,

  He spent each joyous day and night

  In revelry and wild delight,

  Like Indra whom the nymphs entice

  To taste the joys of Paradise.

  The power to courtiers’ hands resigned,

  To all their acts his eyes were blind.

  All doubt, all fear he cast aside

  And lived with pleasure for his guide.

  But sage Hanúmán, firm and true,

  Whose heart the lore of Scripture knew,

  Well trained to meet occasion, trained

  In all by duty’s law ordained,

  Strove with his prudent speech to find

  Soft access to the monarch’s mind.

  He, skilled in every gentle art

  Of eloquence that wins the heart,

  Sugríva from his trance to wake,

  His salutary counsel spake:

  “The realm is won, thy name advanced,

  The glory of thy house enhanced,

  And now thy foremost care should be

  To aid the friends who succoured thee.

  He who is firm and faithful found

  To friendly ties in honour bound,

  Will see his name and fame increase

  And his blest kingdom thrive in peace.

  Wide sway is his who truly boasts

  That friends and treasure, self and hosts,

  All blent in one harmonious whole,

  Are subject to his firm control.

  Do thou, whose footsteps never stray

  From the clear bounds of duty’s way,

  Assist, as honour bids thee, now

  Thy friends, observant of thy vow.

  For if all cares we lay not by,

  And to our friend’s assistance fly,

  We, after, toil in idle haste,

  And all the late endeavour waste.

  Up! nor the promised help delay

  Until the hour have slipped away.

  Up! and with Raghu’s son renew

  The search for Sítá lost to view.

  The hour is come: he hears the call,

  But not on thee reproaches fall

  From him who labours to repress

  His eager spirit’s restlessness.

  Long joined to thee in friendly ties

  He made thy fame and fortune rise,

  In gentle gifts by none excelled.

  In splendid might unparalleled.

  Up, to his succour, King! repay

  The favour of that
prosperous day,

  And to thy bravest captains send

  Prompt mandates to assist thy friend.

  The cry for help thou wilt not spurn

  Although no grace demands return:

  And wilt thou not thine aid afford

  To him who realm and life restored?

  Exert thy power, and thou hast won

  The love of Daśaratha’s son:

  And wilt thou for his summons wait,

  And, till he call thee, hesitate?

  Think not the hero needs thy power

  To save him in the desperate hour:

  He with his arrows could subdue

  The Gods and all the demon crew,

  And only waits that he may see

  Redeemed the promise made by thee.

  For thee he risked his life and fought,

  For thee that great deliverance wrought.

  Then let us trace through earth and skies

  His lady wheresoe’er she lies.

  Through realms above, beneath, we flee,

  And plant our footsteps on the sea.

  Then why, O Lord of Vánars, still

  Delay us waiting for thy will?

  Give thy commands, O King, and say

  What task has each and where the way.

  Before thee myriad Vánars stand

  To sweep through heaven, o’er seas and land.”

  Sugríva heard the timely rede

  That roused him in the day of need,

  And thus to Níla prompt and brave

  His hest the imperial Vánar gave:

  “Go, Níla, to the distant hosts

  That keep in arms their several posts,

  And all the armies that protect

  The quarters,631 with their chiefs, collect.

  To all the luminaries placed

  In intermediate regions haste,

  And bid each captain rise and lead

  His squadrons to their king with speed.

  Do thou meanwhile with strictest care

  All that the time requires prepare.

  The loitering Vánar who delays

  To gather here ere thrice five days,

  Shall surely die for his offence,

  Condemned for sinful negligence.”

  Canto XXX. Ráma’s Lament.

  BUT RÁMA IN the autumn night

  Stood musing on the mountain height,

  While grief and love that scorned control

  Shook with wild storms the hero’s soul.

  Clear was the sky, without a cloud

  The glory of the moon to shroud.

  And bright with purest silver shone

  Each hill the soft beams looked upon.

  He knew Sugríva’s heart was bent

  On pleasure, gay and negligent.

  He thought on Janak’s child forlorn

  From his fond arms for ever torn.

  He mourned occasion slipping by,

  And faint with anguish heaved each sigh.

 

‹ Prev