The Ramayana Part 106

Then fierce the dreadful combat raged As fiend and bird in war engaged, As if two winged mountains sped To dire encounter overhead.

Keen pointed arrows thick and fast, In never ceasing fury cast, Rained hurtling on the vulture king And smote him on the breast and wing.

But still that n.o.blest bird sustained The cloud of shafts which Rava? rained, And with strong beak and talons bent The body of his foeman rent.

Then wild with rage the ten-necked king Laid ten swift arrows on his string,- Dread as the staff of Death were they, So terrible and keen to slay.

Straight to his ear the string he drew, Straight to the mark the arrows flew, And pierced by every iron head The vulture's mangled body bled.

One glance upon the car he bent Where Sita wept with shrill lament, Then heedless of his wounds and pain Rushed at the giant king again.

Then the brave vulture with the stroke Of his resistless talons broke The giant's shafts and bow whereon The fairest pearls and jewels shone.

The monster paused, by rage unmanned: A second bow soon armed his hand, Whence pointed arrows swift and true In hundreds, yea in thousands, flew.

The monarch of the vultures, plied With ceaseless darts on every side, Showed like a bird that turns to rest Close covered by the branch-built nest.

He shook his pinions to repel The storm of arrows as it fell; Then with his talons snapped in two The mighty bow which Rava? drew.

Next with terrific wing he smote So fiercely on the giant's coat, The harness, glittering with the glow Of fire, gave way beneath the blow.

With storm of murderous strokes he beat The harnessed a.s.ses strong and fleet,- Each with a goblin's monstrous face And plates of gold his neck to grace.

Then on the car he turned his ire,- The will-moved car that shone like fire, And broke the glorious chariot, broke The golden steps and pole and yoke.

The chouris and the silken shade Like the full moon to view displayed, Together with the guards who held Those emblems, to the ground he felled.

The royal vulture hovered o'er The driver's head, and pierced and tore With his strong beak and dreaded claws His mangled brow and cheek and jaws.

With broken car and sundered bow, His charioteer and team laid low, One arm about the lady wound, Sprang the fierce giant to the ground.

Spectators of the combat, all The spirits viewed the monster's fall: Lauding the vulture every one Cried with glad voice, Well done! well done!

But weak with length of days, at last The vulture's strength was failing fast.

The fiend again a.s.sayed to bear The lady through the fields of air.

But when the vulture saw him rise Triumphant with his trembling prize, Bearing the sword that still was left When other arms were lost or cleft, Once more, impatient of repose, Swift from the earth her champion rose, Hung in the way the fiend would take, And thus addressing Rava? spake: "Thou, King of giants, rash and blind, Wilt be the ruin of thy kind, Stealing the wife of Rama, him With lightning scars on chest and limb.

A mighty host obeys his will And troops of slaves his palace fill; His lords of state are wise and true, Kinsmen has he and retinue.

As thirsty travellers drain the cup, Thou drinkest deadly poison up.

The rash and careless fool who heeds No coming fruit of guilty deeds, A few short years of life shall see, And perish doomed to death like thee.

Say whither wilt thou fly to loose Thy neck from Death's entangling noose, Caught like the fish that finds too late The hook beneath the treacherous bait?

Never, O King-of this be sure- Will Raghu's fiery sons endure, Terrific in their vengeful rage, This insult to their hermitage.

Thy guilty hands this day have done A deed which all reprove and shun, Unworthly of a n.o.ble chief, The pillage loved by coward thief.

Stay, if thy heart allow thee, stay And meet me in the deadly fray.

Soon shall thou stain the earth with gore, And fall as Khara fell before.

The fruits of former deeds o'erpower The sinner in his dying hour: And such a fate on thee, O King, Thy tyranny and madness bring.

Not e'en the Self-existent Lord, Who reigns by all the worlds adored, Would dare attempt a guilty deed Which the dire fruits of crime succeed."

Thus brave Ja?ayus, best of birds, Addressed the fiend with moving words, Then ready for the swift attack Swooped down upon the giant's back.

Down to the bone the talons went; With many a wound the flesh was rent: Such blows infuriate drivers deal Their elephants with pointed steel.

Fixed in his back the strong beak lay, The talons stripped the flesh away.

He fought with claws and beak and wing, And tore the long hair of the king.

Still as the royal vulture beat The giant with his wings and feet, Swelled the fiend's lips, his body shook With furious rage too great to brook.

About the Maithil dame he cast One huge left arm and held her fast.

In furious rage to frenzy fanned He struck the vulture with his hand.

Jatayus mocked the vain a.s.say, And rent his ten left arms away.

Down dropped the severed limbs: anew Ten others from his body grew: Thus bright with pearly radiance glide Dread serpents from the hillock side, Again in wrath the giant pressed The lady closer to his breast, And foot and fist sent blow on blow In ceaseless fury at the foe.

So fierce and dire the battle, waged Between those mighty champions, raged: Here was the lord of giants, there The n.o.blest of the birds of air.

Thus, as his love of Rama taught, The faithful vulture strove and fought.

But Rava? seized his sword and smote His wings and side and feet and throat.

At mangled side and wing he bled; He fell, and life was almost fled.

The lady saw her champion lie, His plumes distained with gory dye, And hastened to the vulture's side Grieving as though a kinsman died.

The lord of Lanka's island viewed The vulture as he lay: Whose back like some dark cloud was hued, His breast a paly grey, Like ashes, when by none renewed, The flame has died away.

The lady saw with mournful eye, Her champion press the plain,- The royal bird, her true ally Whom Rava?'s might had slain.

Her soft arms locked in strict embrace Around his neck she kept, And lovely with her moon-bright face Bent o'er her friend and wept.

Canto LII. Ravan's Flight.

Fair as the lord of silvery rays Whom every star in heaven obeys, The Maithil dame her plaint renewed O'er him by Rava?'s might subdued: "Dreams, omens, auguries foreshow Our coming lot of weal and woe: But thou, my Rama, couldst not see The grievous blow which falls on thee.

The birds and deer desert the brakes And show the path my captor takes, And thus e'en now this royal bird Flew to mine aid by pity stirred.

Slain for my sake in death he lies, The broad-winged rover of the skies.

O Rama, haste, thine aid I crave: O Lakshma?, why delay to save?

Brave sons of old Ikshvaku, hear And rescue in this hour of fear."

Her flowery wreath was torn and rent, Crushed was each sparkling ornament.

She with weak arms and trembling knees Clung like a creeper to the trees, And like some poor deserted thing With wild shrieks made the forest ring.

But swift the giant reached her side, As loud on Rama's name she cried.

Fierce as grim Death one hand he laid Upon her tresses' lovely braid.

"That touch, thou impious King, shall be The ruin of thy race and thee."

The universal world in awe That outrage on the lady saw, All nature shook convulsed with dread, And darkness o'er the land was spread.

The Lord of Day grew dark and chill, And every breath of air was still.

The Eternal Father of the sky Beheld the crime with heavenly eye, And spake with solemn voice, "The deed, The deed is done, of old decreed."

Sad were the saints within the grove, But triumph with their sorrow strove.

They wept to see the Maithil dame Endure the outrage, scorn, and shame: They joyed because his life should pay The penalty incurred that day.

Then Rava? raised her up, and bare His captive through the fields of air, Calling with accents loud and shrill On Rama and on Lakshma? still.

With sparkling gems on arm and breast, In silk of paly amber dressed, High in the air the Maithil dame Gleamed like the lightning's flas.h.i.+ng flame.

The giant, as the breezes blew Upon her robes of amber hue, And round him twined that gay attire, Showed like a mountain girt with fire.

The lady, fairest of the fair, Had wreathed a garland round her hair; Its lotus petals bright and sweet Rained down about the giant's feet.

Her vesture, bright as burning gold, Gave to the wind each glittering fold, Fair as a gilded cloud that gleams Touched by the Day-G.o.d's tempered beams.

Yet struggling in the fiend's embrace, The lady with her sweet pure face, Far from her lord, no longer wore The light of joy that shone before.

Like some sad lily by the side Of waters which the sun has dried; Like the pale moon uprising through An autumn cloud of darkest hue, So was her perfect face between The arms of giant Rava? seen: Fair with the charm of braided tress And forehead's finished loveliness; Fair with the ivory teeth that shed White l.u.s.tre through the lips' fine red, Fair as the lotus when the bud Is rising from the parent flood.

With faultless lip and nose and eye, Dear as the moon that floods the sky With gentle light, of perfect mould, She seemed a thing of burnished gold, Though on her cheek the traces lay Of tears her hand had brushed away.

But as the moon-beams swiftly fade Ere the great Day-G.o.d s.h.i.+nes displayed, So in that form of perfect grace Still trembling in the fiend's embrace, From her beloved Rama reft, No light of pride or joy was left.

The lady with her golden hue O'er the swart fiend a l.u.s.tre threw, As when embroidered girths enfold An elephant with gleams of gold.

Fair as the lily's bending stem,- Her arms adorned with many a gem, A l.u.s.tre to the fiend she lent Gleaming from every ornament, As when the cloud-shot flashes light The shadows of a mountain height.

Whene'er the breezes earthward bore The tinkling of the zone she wore, He seemed a cloud of darkness hue Sending forth murmurs as it flew.

As on her way the dame was sped From her sweet neck fair flowers were shed, The swift wind caught the flowery rain And poured it o'er the fiend again.

The wind-stirred blossoms, sweet to smell, On the dark brows of Rava? fell, Like lunar constellations set On Meru for a coronet.

From her small foot an anklet fair With jewels slipped, and through the air, Like a bright circlet of the flame Of thunder, to the valley came.

The Maithil lady, fair to see As the young leaflet of a tree Clad in the tender hues of spring, Flashed glory on the giant king, As when a gold-embroidered zone Around an elephant is thrown.

While, bearing far the lady, through The realms of sky the giant flew, She like a gleaming meteor cast A glory round her as she pa.s.sed.

Then from each limb in swift descent Dropped many a sparkling ornament: On earth they rested dim and pale Like fallen stars when virtues fail.(504) Around her neck a garland lay Bright as the Star-G.o.d's silvery ray: It fell and flashed like Ganga sent From heaven above the firmament.(505) The birds of every wing had flocked To stately trees by breezes rocked: These bowed their wind-swept heads and said: "My lady sweet, be comforted."

With faded blooms each brook within Whose waters moved no gleamy fin, Stole sadly through the forest dell Mourning the dame it loved so well.

From every woodland region near Came lions, tigers, birds, and deer, And followed, each with furious look, The way her flying shadow took.

For Sita's loss each lofty hill Whose tears were waterfall, and rill, Lifting on high each arm-like steep, Seemed in the general woe to weep.

When the great sun, the lord of day, Saw Rava? tear the dame away, His glorious light began to fail And all his disk grew cold and pale.

"If Rava? from the forest flies With Rama's Sita as his prize, Justice and truth have vanished hence, Honour and right and innocence."

Thus rose the cry of wild despair From spirits as they gathered there.

In trembling troops in open lawns Wept, wild with woe, the startled fawns, And a strange terror changed the eyes They lifted to the distant skies.

On silvan G.o.ds who love the dell A sudden fear and trembling fell, As in the deepest woe they viewed The lady by the fiend subdued.

Still in loud shrieks was heard afar That voice whose sweetness naught could mar, While eager looks of fear and woe She bent upon the earth below.

The lady of each winning wile With pearly teeth and lovely smile, Seized by the lord of Lanka's isle, Looked down for friends in vain.

She saw no friend to aid her, none, Not Rama nor the younger son Of Dasaratha, and undone She swooned with fear and pain.