The Sanskrit Epics

Home > Other > The Sanskrit Epics > Page 116
The Sanskrit Epics Page 116

by Delphi Classics


  The Vánars, and besought their lord

  That they those honeyed stores might eat

  That made the grove so passing sweet.

  He gave consent: they sought the trees

  Thronged with innumerable bees.

  They rifled all the treasured store,

  And ate the fruit the branches bore,

  And still as they prolonged the feast

  Their merriment and joy increased.

  Drunk with the sweets, they danced and bowed,

  They wildly sang, they laughed aloud,

  Some climbed and sprang from tree to tree,

  Some sat and chattered in their glee.

  Some scaled the trees which creepers crowned,

  And rained the branches to the ground.

  There with loud laugh a Vánar sprang

  Close to his friend who madly sang,

  In doleful mood another crept

  To mix his tears with one who wept.

  Then Dadhimukh with fury viewed

  The intoxicated multitude.

  He looked upon the rifled shade,

  And all the ruin they had made;

  Then called with angry voice, and strove

  To save the remnant of the grove.

  But warning cries and words were spurned,

  And angry taunt and threat returned.

  Then fierce and wild contention rose:

  With furious words he mingled blows.

  They by no shame or fear withheld,

  By drunken mood and ire impelled,

  Used claws, and teeth, and hands, and beat

  The keeper under trampling feet.

  [Three Cantos consisting of little but repetitions are omitted. Dadhimukh escapes from the infuriated monkeys and hastens to Sugríva to report their misconduct. Sugríva infers that Hanumán and his band have been successful in their search, and that the exuberance of spirits and the mischief complained of, are but the natural expression of their joy. Dadhimukh obtains little sympathy from Sugríva, and is told to return and send the monkeys on with all possible speed.]

  Canto LXV. The Tidings.

  ON TO PRAŚRAVAṆ’S hill they sped

  Where blooming trees their branches spread.

  To Raghu’s sons their heads they bent

  And did obeisance reverent.

  Then to their king, by Angad led,

  Each Vánar chieftain bowed his head;

  And Hanumán the brave and bold

  His tidings to the monarch told;

  But first in Ráma’s hand he placed

  The gem that Sítá’s brow had graced:

  “I crossed the sea: I searched a while

  For Sítá in the giants’ isle.

  I found her vext with taunt and threat

  By demon guards about her set.

  Her tresses twined in single braid,

  On the bare earth her limbs were laid.

  Sad were her eyes: her cheeks were pale

  As shuddering flowers in winter’s gale.

  I stood beside the weeping dame,

  And gently whispered Ráma’s name:

  With cheering words her grief consoled,

  And then the whole adventure told.

  She weeps afar beyond the sea,

  And her true heart is still with thee.

  She gave a sign that thou wouldst know,

  She bids thee think upon the crow,

  And bright mark pressed upon her brow

  When none was nigh but she and thou.

  She bids thee take this precious stone,

  The sea-born gem thou long hast known.

  “And I,” she said, “will dull the sting

  Of woe by gazing on the ring.

  One little month shall I sustain

  This life oppressed with woe and pain:

  And when the month is ended, I

  The giants’ prey must surely die.’ ”

  Canto LXVI. Ráma’s Speech.

  THERE CEASED THE Vánar: Ráma pressed

  The treasured jewel to his breast,

  And from his eyes the waters broke

  As to the Vánar king he spoke:

  “As o’er her babe the mother weeps,

  This flood of tears the jewel steeps.

  This gem that shone on Sítá’s head

  Was Janak’s gift when we were wed,

  And the pure brow that wore it lent

  New splendour to the ornament.

  This gem, bright offspring of the wave,

  The King of Heaven to Janak gave,

  Whose noble sacrificial rite

  Had filled the God with new delight.

  Now, as I gaze upon the prize,

  Methinks I see my father’s eyes.

  Methinks I see before me stand

  The ruler of Videha’s land.893

  Methinks mine arms are folded now

  Round her who wore it on her brow.

  Speak, Hanumán, O say, dear friend,

  What message did my darling send?

  O speak, and let thy words impart

  Their gentle dew to cool my heart.

  Ah, ’tis the crown of woe to see

  This gem and ask “Where, where is she?”

  If for one month her heart be strong,

  Her days of life will yet be long.

  But I, with naught to lend relief,

  This very day must die of grief.

  Come, Hanumán, and quickly guide

  The mourner to his darling’s side.

  O lead me — thou hast learnt the way —

  I cannot and I will not stay.

  How can my gentle love endure,

  So timid, delicate, and pure,

  The dreadful demons fierce and vile

  Who watch her in the guarded isle?

  No more the light of beauty shines

  From Sítá as she weeps and pines.

  But pain and sorrow, cloud on cloud

  Her moonlight glory dim and shroud.

  O speak, dear Hanumán, and tell

  Each word that from her sweet lips fell,

  Her words, her words alone can give

  The healing balm to make me live.”894

  BOOK VI.895

  Canto I. Ráma’s Speech.

  THE SON OF Raghu heard, consoled,

  The wondrous tale Hanumán told;

  And, as his joyous hope grew high,

  In friendly words he made reply:

  “Behold a mighty task achieved,

  Which never heart but his conceived.

  Who else across the sea can spring,

  Save Váyu896 and the Feathered King?897

  Who, pass the portals strong and high

  Which Nágas,898 Gods, and fiends defy,

  Where Rávaṇ’s hosts their station keep, —

  And come uninjured o’er the deep?

  By such a deed the Wind-God’s son

  Good service to the king has done,

  And saved from ruin and disgrace

  Lakshmaṇ and me and Raghu’s race.

  Well has he planned and bravely fought,

  And with due care my lady sought.

  But of the sea I sadly think,

  And the sweet hopes that cheered me sink.

  How can we cross the leagues of foam

  That keep us from the giant’s home?

  What can the Vánar legions more

  Than muster on the ocean shore?”

  Canto II. Sugríva’s Speech.

  HE CEASED: AND King Sugríva tried

  To calm his grief, and thus replied:

  “‘Be to thy nobler nature true,

  Nor let despair thy soul subdue.

  This cloud of causeless woe dispel,

  For all as yet has prospered well,

  And we have traced thy queen, and know

  The dwelling of our Rákshas foe.

  Arise, consult: thy task must be

  To cast a bridge athwart the sea,

  The city of our fo
e to reach

  That crowns the mountain by the beach;

  And when our feet that isle shall tread,

  Rejoice and deem thy foeman dead.

  The sea unbridged, his walls defy

  Both fiends and children of the sky,

  Though at the fierce battalions’ head

  Lord Indra’s self the onset led.

  Yea, victory is thine before

  The long bridge touch the farther shore,

  So fleet and fierce and strong are these

  Who limb them as their fancies please.

  Away with grief and sad surmise

  That mar the noblest enterprise,

  And with their weak suspicion blight

  The sage’s plan, the hero’s might.

  Come, this degenerate weakness spurn,

  And bid thy dauntless heart return,

  For each fair hope by grief is crossed

  When those we love are dead or lost.

  Arise, O best of those who know,

  Arm for the giant’s overthrow.

  None in the triple world I see

  Who in the fight may equal thee;

  None who before thy face may stand

  And brave the bow that arms thy hand,

  Trust to these mighty Vánars: they

  With full success thy trust will pay,

  When thou shalt reach the robber’s hold,

  And loving arms round Sítá fold.”

  Canto III. Lanká.

  HE CEASED: AND Raghu’s son gave heed,

  Attentive to his prudent rede:

  Then turned again, with hope inspired,

  To Hanumán, and thus inquired:

  “Light were the task for thee, I ween,

  To bridge the sea that gleams between

  The mainland and the island shore.

  Or dry the deep and guide as o’er.

  Fain would I learn from thee whose feet

  Have trod the stones of every street,

  Of fenced Lanká’s towers and forts,

  And walls and moats and guarded ports,

  And castles where the giants dwell,

  And battlemented citadel.

  O Váyu’s son, describe it all,

  With palace, fort, and gate, and wall.”

  He ceased: and, skilled in arts that guide

  The eloquent, the chief replied:

  “Vast is the city, gay and strong,

  Where elephants unnumbered throng,

  And countless hosts of Rákshas breed

  Stand ready by the car and steed.

  Four massive gates, securely barred,

  All entrance to the city guard,

  With murderous engines fixt to throw

  Bolt, arrow, rock to check the foe,

  And many a mace with iron head

  That strikes at once a hundred dead.

  Her golden ramparts wide and high

  With massy strength the foe defy,

  Where inner walls their rich inlay

  Of coral, turkis, pearl display.

  Her circling moats are broad and deep,

  Where ravening monsters dart and leap.

  By four great piers each moat is spanned

  Where lines of deadly engines stand.

  In sleepless watch at every gate

  Unnumbered hosts of giants wait,

  And, masters of each weapon, rear

  The threatening pike and sword and spear.

  My fury hurled those ramparts down,

  Filled up the moats that gird the town,

  The piers and portals overturned,

  And stately Lanká spoiled and burned.

  Howe’er we Vánars force our way

  O’er the wide seat of Varuṇ’s899 sway,

  Be sure that city of the foe

  Is doomed to sudden overthrow,

  Nay, why so vast an army lead?

  Brave Angad, Dwivid good at need,

  Fierce Mainda, Panas famed in fight,

  And Níla’s skill and Nala’s might,

  And Jámbaván the strong and wise,

  Will dare the easy enterprise.

  Assailed by these shall Lanká fall

  With gate and rampart, tower and wall.

  Command the gathering, chief: and they

  In happy hour will haste away.”

  Canto IV. The March.

  HE CEASED; AND spurred by warlike pride

  The impetuous son of Raghu cried:

  “Soon shall mine arm with wrathful joy

  That city of the foe destroy.

  Now, chieftain, now collect the host,

  And onward to the southern coast!

  The sun in his meridian tower

  Gives glory to the Vánar power.

  The demon lord who stole my queen

  By timely flight his life may screen.

  She, when she knows her lord is near,

  Will cling to hope and banish fear,

  Saved like a dying wretch who sips

  The drink of Gods with fevered lips.

  Arise, thy troops to battle lead:

  All happy omens counsel speed.

  The Lord of Stars in favouring skies

  Bodes glory to our enterprise.

  This arm shall slay the fiend; and she,

  My consort, shall again be free.

  Mine upward-throbbing eye foreshows

  The longed-for triumph o’er my foes.

  Far in the van be Níla’s post,

  To scan the pathway for the host,

  And let thy bravest and thy best,

  A hundred thousand, wait his hest.

  Go forth, O warrior Níla, lead

  The legions on through wood and mead

  Where pleasant waters cool the ground,

  And honey, flowers, and fruit abound.

  Go, and with timely care prevent

  The Rákshas foeman’s dark intent.

  With watchful troops each valley guard

  Ere brooks and fruits and roots be marred

  And search each glen and leafy shade

  For hostile troops in ambuscade.

  But let the weaklings stay behind:

  For heroes is our task designed.

  Let thousands of the Vánar breed

  The vanguard of the armies lead:

  Fierce and terrific must it be

  As billows of the stormy sea.

  There be the hill-huge Gaja’s place,

  And Gavaya’s, strongest of his race,

  And, like the bull that leads the herd,

  Gaváksha’s, by no fears deterred

  Let Rishabh, matchless in the might

  Of warlike arms, protect our right,

  And Gandhamádan next in rank

  Defend and guide the other flank.

  I, like the God who rules the sky

  Borne on Airávat900 mounted high

  On stout Hanúmán’s back will ride,

  The central host to cheer and guide.

  Fierce as the God who rules below,

  On Angad’s back let Lakshmaṇ show

  Like him who wealth to mortals shares,901

  The lord whom Sárvabhauma902 bears.

  The bold Susheṇ’s impetuous might,

  And Vegadarśí’s piercing sight,

  And Jámbaván whom bears revere,

  Illustrious three, shall guard the rear.”

  He ceased, the royal Vánar heard,

  And swift, obedient to his word,

  Sprang forth in numbers none might tell

  From mountain, cave, and bosky dell,

  From rocky ledge and breezy height,

  Fierce Vánars burning for the fight.

  And Ráma’s course was southward bent

  Amid the mighty armament.

  On, joyous, pressed in close array

  The hosts who owned Sugríva’s sway,

  With nimble feet, with rapid bound

  Exploring, ere they passed, the ground,

  While from ten myriad thr
oats rang out

  The challenge and the battle shout.

  On roots and honeycomb they fed,

  And clusters from the boughs o’erhead,

  Or from the ground the tall trees tore

  Rich with the flowery load they bore.

  Some carried comrades, wild with mirth,

  Then cast their riders to the earth,

  Who swiftly to their feet arose

  And overthrew their laughing foes.

  While still rang out the general cry,

  “King Rávaṇ and his fiends shall die,”

  Still on, exulting in the pride

  Of conscious strength, the Vánars hied,

  And gazed where noble Sahya, best

  Of mountains, raised each towering crest.

  They looked on lake and streamlet, where

  The lotus bloom was bright and fair,

  Nor marched — for Ráma’s hest they feared

  Where town or haunt of men appeared.

  Still onward, fearful as the waves

  Of Ocean when he roars and raves,

  Led by their eager chieftains, went

  The Vánars’ countless armament.

  Each captain, like a noble steed

  Urged by the lash to double speed.

  Pressed onward, filled with zeal and pride,

  By Ráma’s and his brother’s side,

  Who high above the Vánar throng

  On mighty backs were borne along,

  Like the great Lords of Day and Night

  Seized by eclipsing planets might.

  Then Lakshmaṇ radiant as the morn,

  On Angad’s shoulders high upborne.

  With sweet consoling words that woke

  New ardour, to his brother spoke:

  “Soon shalt thou turn, thy queen regained

  And impious Rávaṇ’s life-blood drained,

  In happiness and high renown

  To dear Ayodhyá’s happy town.

  I see around exceeding fair

  All omens of the earth and air.

  Auspicious breezes sweet and low

  To greet the Vánar army blow,

  And softly to my listening ear

  Come the glad cries of bird and deer.

  Bright is the sky around us, bright

  Without a cloud the Lord of Light,

  And Śukra903 with propitious love

  Looks on thee from his throne above.

  The pole-star and the Sainted Seven904

  Shine brightly in the northern heaven,

  And great Triśanku,905 glorious king,

  Ikshváku’s son from whom we spring,

  Beams in unclouded glory near

  His holy priest906 whom all revere.

 

‹ Prev