The Ramayana Part 132

Four months, thou knowest well, extends The season when the rain descends.

No time for deeds of war is this: Seek thou thy fair metropolis, And I with Lakshma?, O my friend, The time upon this hill will spend.

An ample cavern opens there Made lovely by the mountain air, And lotuses and lilies fill The pleasant lake and murmuring rill.

When Kartik's(613) month shall clear the skies, Then tempt the mighty enterprise.

Now, chieftain to thy home repair, And be anointed sovereign there."

Sugriva heard: he bowed his head: Within the lovely town he sped Which Bali's royal will had swayed, Where thousand Vanar chiefs arrayed Gathered in order round their king, And led him on with welcoming.

Low on the earth the lesser crowd Fell in prostration as they bowed.

Sugriva looked with grateful eyes, Spake to them all and bade them rise.

Then through the royal bowers he strode Wherein the monarch's wives abode.

Soon from the inner chambers came The Vanar of exalted fame; And joyful friends drew near and shed King-making balm upon his head, Like G.o.ds anointing in the skies Their sovereign of the thousand eyes.(614) Then brought they, o'er their king to hold The white umbrella decked with gold, And chouries with their waving hair In golden handles wondrous fair; And fragrant herbs and seed and spice, And sparkling gems exceeding price, And every bloom from woods and leas, And gum distilled from milky trees; And precious ointment white as milk, And spotless robes of cloth and silk, Wreaths of sweet flowers whose glories gleam In gra.s.sy grove, on lake or stream.

And fragrant sandal and each scent That makes the soft breeze redolent; Grain, honey, odorous seed, and store Of oil and curd and golden ore; A n.o.ble tiger's skin, a pair Of sandals wrought with costliest care, Eight pairs of damsels drawing nigh Brought unguents stained with varied dye.

Then gems and cates and robes displayed Before the twice-born priests were laid, That they would deign in order due To consecrate the king anew.

The sacred gra.s.s was duly spread And sacrificial flame was fed, Which Scripture-learned priests supplied With oil which texts had sanctified.

Then, with all rites ordained of old, High on the terrace bright with gold, Whereon a glorious carpet lay, And fresh-culled garlands sweet and gay, Placed on his throne, Sugriva bent His looks toward the Orient.

In horns from forehead of the bull, In pitchers bright and beautiful, In urns of gold the Vanara took Pure water brought from stream and brook, From every consecrated strand And every sea that beats the land.

Then, as prescribed by sacred lore And many a mighty sage of yore,(615) The leaders of the Vanars poured The sacred water on their lord.(616) From every Vanar at the close Of that imperial rite arose Shouts of glad triumph, loud and long Repeated by the high-souled throng.

Sugriva, when the rite was done, Obeyed the hest of Raghu's son, Prince Angad to his breast he strained, And partner of his sway ordained.

Once more from all the host rang out The loud huzza and jovful shout.

"Well done! well done!" each Vanar cried, And good Sugriva glorified.

Then with glad voices loudly raised Were Rama and his brother praised; And bright Kishkindha shone that day With happy throngs and banners gay.

Canto XXVII. Rama On The Hill.

But when the solemn rite was o'er, And bold Sugriva reigned once more, The sons of Raghu sought the hill, Prasrava? of the rus.h.i.+ng rill, Where roamed the tiger and the deer, And lions raised their voice of fear; 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 s.p.a.cious cave To Raghu's sons a shelter gave.

Then Rama, pure from every crime, In words well suited to the time To Lakshma? spake, whose faithful zeal Watched humbly for his brother's weal: "I love this s.p.a.cious 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 s.h.i.+ne 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 peac.o.c.k's voice is shrill, And sweet birds carol on the hill; Where odorous breath is wafted far From Jessamine and Sinduvar;(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 Kailasa'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 Ganga's infant rill Down streaming from the three-peaked hill.

See, by the water's gentle flow Asoka, sal, 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 sarases 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 peac.o.c.k's scream, There stands the curlew by the stream, And holy hermits love to throng Where the sweet waters speed along.

Ranged on the gra.s.sy margin s.h.i.+ne 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 pa.s.s in calm delight.

Nor is Kishkindha'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 Vanars dance, will come The sound of tabour and of drum.

Again to spouse and realm restored, Girt by his friends, the Vanar 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 Rama 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 Lakshma?'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 G.o.ds 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 wors.h.i.+p 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 n.o.blest 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 Sugriva 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 Rama cried On Malyavat's(618) 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 gus.h.i.+ng tears, Like Sita 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 Sugriva when they shed Tne royal balm upon his head.

Like students at their task appear These hills whose misty peaks are near: Black deerskin(619) 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 Sita 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 month(623) wherein The Samar's(624) sacred chants begin.

ashadha(625) past, now Kosal's lord(626) 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 Sarju(628) roars along As though Ayodhya's crowds ran out To greet their king with echoing shout.

In this sweet time of ease and rest No care disturbs Sugriva'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 Ravan 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 Sugriva 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.