A lovely city planned and decked
By heaven’s creative architect,804
Fairest of earthly cities meet
To be the Gods’ celestial seat.
The Vánar by the northern gate
Thus in his heart began debate
“Our mightiest host would strive in vain
To take this city on the main:
A city that may well defy
The chosen warriors of the sky;
A city never to be won
E’en by the arm of Raghu’s son.
Here is no hope by guile to win
The hostile hearts of those within.
‘Twere vain to war, or bribe, or sow
Dissension mid the Vánar foe.
But now my search must I pursue
Until the Maithil queen I view:
And, when I find the captive dame,
Make victory mine only aim.
But, if I wear my present shape,
How shall I enter and escape
The Rákshas troops, their guards and spies,
And sleepless watch of cruel eyes?
The fiends of giant race who hold
This mighty town are strong and bold;
And I must labour to elude
The fiercely watchful multitude.
I in a shape to mock their sight
Must steal within the town by night,
Blind with my art the demons’ eyes,
And thus achieve my enterprise.
How may I see, myself unseen
Of the fierce king, the captive queen,
And meet her in some lonely place,
With none beside her, face to face?”
When the bright sun had left the skies
The Vánar dwarfed his mighty size,
And, in the straitest bounds restrained,
The bigness of a cat retained.805
Then, when the moon’s soft light was spread,
Within the city’s walls he sped.
Canto III. The Guardian Goddess.
THERE FROM THE circling rampart’s height
He gazed upon the wondrous sight;
Broad gates with burnished gold displayed,
And courts with turkises inlaid;
With gleaming silver, gems, and rows
Of crystal stairs and porticoes.
In semblance of a Rákshas dame
The city’s guardian Goddess came, —
For she with glances sure and keen
The entrance of a foe had seen, —
And thus with fury in her eye
Addressed him with an angry cry:
“Who art thou? what has led thee, say,
Within these walls to find thy way?
Thou mayst not enter here in spite
Of Rávaṇ and his warriors’ might.”
“And who art thou?” the Vánar cried,
By form and frown unterrified,
“Why hast thou met me by the gate,
And chid me thus infuriate?”
He ceased: and Lanká made reply:
“The guardian of the town am I,
Who watch for ever to fulfil
My lord the Rákshas monarch’s will.
But thou shalt fall this hour, and deep
Shall be thy never-ending sleep.”
Again he spake: “In spite of thee
This golden city will I see.
Her gates and towers, and all the pride
Of street and square from side to side,
And freely wander where I please
Amid her groves of flowering trees;
On all her beauties sate mine eye.
Then, as I came, will homeward hie.”
Swift with an angry roar she smote
With her huge hand the Vánar’s throat.
The smitten Vánar, rage-impelled,
With fist upraised the monster felled:
But quick repented, stirred with shame
And pity for a vanquished dame,
When with her senses troubled, weak
With terror, thus she strove to speak:
“O spare me thou whose arm is strong:
O spare me, and forgive the wrong.
The brave that law will ne’er transgress
That spares a woman’s helplessness.
Hear, best of Vánars, brave and bold,
What Brahmá’s self of yore foretold;
“Beware,” he said, “the fatal hour
When thou shalt own a Vánar’s power.
Then is the giants’ day of fear,
For terror and defeat are near.”
Now, Vánar chief, o’ercome by thee,
I own the truth of heaven’s decree.
For Sítá’s sake will ruin fall
On Rávaṇ, and his town, and all.”
Canto IV. Within The City.
THE GUARDIAN GODDESS thus subdued,
The Vánar chief his way pursued,
And reached the broad imperial street
Where fresh-blown flowers were bright and sweet.
The city seemed a fairer sky
Where cloud-like houses rose on high,
Whence the soft sound of tabors came
Through many a latticed window frame,
And ever and anon rang out
The merry laugh and joyous shout.
From house to house the Vánar went
And marked each varied ornament,
Where leaves and blossoms deftly strung
About the crystal columns hung.
Then soft and full and sweet and clear
The song of women charmed his ear,
And, blending with their dulcet tones,
Their anklets’ chime and tinkling zones.
He heard the Rákshas minstrel sing
The praises of their matchless king;
And softly through the evening air
Came murmurings of text and prayer.
Here moved a priest with tonsured head,
And there an eager envoy sped,
Mid crowds with hair in matted twine
Clothed in the skins of deer and kine, —
Whose only arms, which none might blame,
Were blades of grass and holy flame806
There savage warriors roamed in bands
With clubs and maces in their hands,
Some dwarfish forms, some huge of size,
With single ears and single eyes.
Some shone in glittering mail arrayed
With bow and mace and flashing blade;
Fiends of all shapes and every hue,
Some fierce and foul, some fair to view.
He saw the grisly legions wait
In strictest watch at Rávaṇ’s gate,
Whose palace on the mountain crest
Rose proudly towering o’er the rest,
Fenced with high ramparts from the foe,
And lotus-covered moats below.
But Hanumán, unhindered, found
Quick passage through the guarded bound,
Mid elephants of noblest breed,
And gilded car and neighing steed.
[I omit Canto V. which corresponds to chapter XI. in Gorresio’s edition. That scholar justly observes: “The eleventh chapter, Description of Evening, is certainly the work of the Rhapsodists and an interpolation of later date. The chapter might be omitted without any injury to the action of the poem, and besides the metre, style, conceits and images differ from the general tenour of the poem; and that continual repetition of the same sounds at the end of each hemistich which is not exactly rime, but assonance, reveals the artificial labour of a more recent age.” The following sample will probably be enough.
Fair shone the moon, as if to lend
His cheering light to guide a friend,
And, circled by the starry host,
Looked down upon the wild sea-coast.
The Vánar cheiftain raised his eyes,
And saw him sailing through the skies
Like a bright swan who joys to take
His pastime on a silver lake;
Fair moon that calms the mourner’s pain.
Heaves up the waters of the main,
And o’er the life beneath him throws
A tender light of soft repose,
The charm that clings to Mandar’s hill,
Gleams in the sea when winds are still,
And decks the lilly’s opening flower,
Showed in that moon her sweetest power.
I am unable to show the difference of style in a translation.]
Canto VI. The Court.
THE PALACE GATES were guarded well
By many a Rákshas sentinel,
And far within, concealed from view,
Were dames and female retinue
For charm of form and face renowned;
Whose tinkling armlets made a sound,
Clashed by the wearers in their glee,
Like music of a distant sea.
The hall beyond the palace gate,
Rich with each badge of royal state,
Where lines of noble courtiers stood,
Showed like a lion-guarded wood.
There the wild music rose and fell
Of drum and tabor and of shell,
Through chambers at each holy tide
By solemn worship sanctified.
Through grove and garden, undismayed,
From house to house the Vánar strayed,
And still his wondering glances bent
On terrace, dome, and battlement:
Then with a light and rapid tread
Prahasta’s807 home he visited,
And Kumbhakarṇa’s808 courtyard where
A cloudy pile rose high in air;
And, wandering o’er the hill, explored
The garden of each Rákshas lord.
Each court and grove he wandered through,
Then nigh to Rávaṇ’s palace drew.
She-demons watched it foul of face,
Each armed with sword and spear and mace,
And warrior fiends of every hue,
A strange and fearful retinue.
There elephants in many a row,
The terror of the stricken foe.
Huge Airávat,809 deftly trained
In battle-fields, stood ready chained.
Fair litters on the ground were set
Adorned with gems and golden net.
Gay bloomy creepers clothed the walls;
Green bowers were there and picture halls,
And chambers made for soft delight.
Broad banners waved on every height.
And from the roof like Mandar’s hill
The peacock’s cry came loud and shrill.810
Canto VII. Rávan’s Palace.
HE PASSED WITHIN the walls and gazed
On gems and gold that round him blazed,
And many a latticed window bright
With turkis and with lazulite.
Through porch and ante-rooms he passed
Each richer, fairer than the last;
And spacious halls where lances lay,
And bows and shells, in fair array:
A glorious house that matched in show
All Paradise displayed below.
Upon the polished floor were spread
Fresh buds and blossoms white and red,
And women shone, a lovely crowd,
As lightning flashes through a cloud:
A palace splendid as the sky
Which moon and planets glorify:
Like earth whose towering hills unfold
Their zones and streaks of glittering gold;
Where waving on the mountain brows
The tall trees bend their laden boughs,
And every bough and tender spray
With a bright load of bloom is gay,
And every flower the breeze has bent
Fills all the region with its scent.
Near the tall palace pale of hue
Shone lovely lakes where lilies blew,
And lotuses with flower and bud
Gleamed on the bosom of the flood.
There shone with gems that flashed afar
The marvel of the Flower-named811 car,
Mid wondrous dwellings still confessed
Supreme and nobler than the rest.
Thereon with wondrous art designed
Were turkis birds of varied kind.
And many a sculptured serpent rolled
His twisted coil in burnished gold.
And steeds were there of noblest form
With flying feet as fleet as storm:
And elephants with deftest skill
Stood sculptured by a silver rill,
Each bearing on his trunk a wreath
Of lilies from the flood beneath.
There Lakshmí,812 beauty’s heavenly queen,
Wrought by the artist’s skill, was seen
Beside a flower-clad pool to stand
Holding a lotus in her hand.
Canto VIII. The Enchanted Car.
THERE GLEAMED THE car with wealth untold
Of precious gems and burnished gold;
Nor could the Wind-God’s son withdraw
His rapt gaze from the sight he saw,
By Viśvakarmá’s813 self proclaimed
The noblest work his hand had framed.
Uplifted in the air it glowed
Bright as the sun’s diurnal road.
The eye might scan the wondrous frame
And vainly seek one spot to blame,
So fine was every part and fair
With gems inlaid with lavish care.
No precious stones so rich adorn
The cars wherein the Gods are borne,
Prize of the all-resistless might
That sprang from pain and penance rite,814
Obedient to the master’s will
It moved o’er wood and towering hill,
A glorious marvel well designed
By Viśvakarmá’s artist mind,
Adorned with every fair device
That decks the cars of Paradise.
Swift moving as the master chose
It flew through air or sank or rose,815
And in its fleetness left behind
The fury of the rushing wind:
Meet mansion for the good and great,
The holy, wise, and fortunate.
Throughout the chariot’s vast extent
Were chambers wide and excellent,
All pure and lovely to the eyes
As moonlight shed from cloudless skies.
Fierce goblins, rovers of the night
Who cleft the clouds with swiftest flight
In countless hosts that chariot drew,
With earrings clashing as they flew.
Canto IX. The Ladies’ Bower.
WHERE STATELY MANSIONS rose around,
A palace fairer still he found,
Whose royal height and splendour showed
Where Rávaṇ’s self, the king, abode.
A chosen band with bow and sword
Guarded the palace of their lord,
Where Ráksha’s dames of noble race
And many a princess fair of face
Whom Rávaṇ’s arm had torn away
From vanquished kings in slumber lay.
There jewelled arches high o’erhead
An ever-changing lustre shed
From ruby, pearl, and every gem
On golden pillars under them.
Delicious came the tempered air
That breathed a heavenly summer there,
Stealing through bloomy trees that bore
Each pleasant fruit in endless store.
No check was there from jealous guard,
No door was fast, no portal barred;
Only a sweet air breathed to meet
The stranger, as a host should greet
A wanderer of his kith an
d kin
And woo his weary steps within.
He stood within a spacious hall
With fretted roof and painted wall,
The giant Rávaṇ’s boast and pride,
Loved even as a lovely bride.
‘Twere long to tell each marvel there,
The crystal floor, the jewelled stair,
The gold, the silver, and the shine
Of chrysolite and almandine.
There breathed the fairest blooms of spring;
There flashed the proud swan’s silver wing,
The splendour of whose feathers broke
Through fragrant wreaths of aloe smoke.
“’Tis Indra’s heaven,” the Vánar cried,
Gazing in joy from side to side;
“The home of all the Gods is this,
The mansion of eternal bliss.”
There were the softest carpets spread,
Delightful to the sight and tread,
Where many a lovely woman lay
O’ercome by sleep, fatigued with play.
The wine no longer cheered the feast,
The sound of revelry had ceased.
The tinkling feet no longer stirred,
No chiming of a zone was heard.
So when each bird has sought her nest,
And swans are mute and wild bees rest,
Sleep the fair lilies on the lake
Till the sun’s kiss shall bid them wake.
Like the calm field of winter’s sky
Which stars unnumbered glorify,
So shone and glowed the sumptuous room
With living stars that chased the gloom.
“These are the stars,” the chieftain cried,
“In autumn nights that earth-ward glide,
In brighter forms to reappear
And shine in matchless lustre here.”
With wondering eyes a while he viewed
Each graceful form and attitude.
One lady’s head was backward thrown,
Bare was her arm and loose her zone.
The garland that her brow had graced
Hung closely round another’s waist.
Here gleamed two little feet all bare
Of anklets that had sparkled there,
Here lay a queenly dame at rest
In all her glorious garments dressed.
There slept another whose small hand
Had loosened every tie and band,
In careless grace another lay
With gems and jewels cast away,
Like a young creeper when the tread
Of the wild elephant has spread
Confusion and destruction round,
And cast it flowerless to the ground.
The Sanskrit Epics Page 109