The Ramayana Part 143

Now from this spot my gazing eye Can Rava? and the dame descry.

Devise some plan to overleap This barrier of the briny deep.

Find the Videhan lady there, And joyous to your home repair.

Me too, O Vanars, to the side Of Varu?'s(772) home the ocean, guide, Where due libations shall be paid To my great-hearted brother's shade."

Canto LIX. Sampati's Story.

They heard his counsel to the close, Then swiftly to their feet they rose; And Jambavan with joyous breast The vulture king again addressed:

"Where, where is Sita? who has seen, Who borne away the Maithil queen?

Who would the lightning flight withstand by Lakshma?'s hand?"

Again Sampati spoke to cheer The Vanars as they bent to hear: "Now listen, and my words shall show What of the Maithil dame I know, And in what distant prison lies The lady of the long dark eyes.

Scorched by the fiery G.o.d of Day, High on this mighty hill I lay.

A long and weary time had pa.s.sed, And strength and life were failing fast.

Yet, ere the breath had left my frame, My son, my dear Suparsva, came.

Each morn and eve he brought me food, And filial care my life renewed.

But serpents still are swift to ire, Gandharvas slaves to soft desire, And we, imperial vultures, need A full supply our maws to feed.

Once he turned at close of day, Stood by my side, but brought no prey.

He looked upon my ravenous eye, Heard my complaint and made reply: "Borne on swift wings ere day was light I stood upon Mahendra's(773) height, And, far below, the sea I viewed And birds in countless mult.i.tude.

Before mine eyes a giant flew Whose monstrous form was dark of hue And struggling in his grasp was borne A lady radiant as the morn.

Swift to the south his course he bent, And cleft the yielding element.

The holy spirits of the air Came round me as I marvelled there, And cried as their bright legions met: "O say, is Sita living yet?"

Thus cried the saints and told the name Of him who held the struggling dame.

Then while mine eye with eager look Pursued the path the robber took, I marked the lady's streaming hair, And heard her cry of wild despair.

I saw her silken vesture rent And stripped of every ornament, Thus, O my father, fled the time: Forgive, I pray, the heedless crime."

In vain the mournful tale I heard My pitying heart to fury stirred, What could a helpless bird of air, Reft of his boasted pinions, dare?

Yet can I aid with all that will And words can do, and friendly skill."

Canto LX. Sampati's Story.

Then from the flood Sampati paid Due offerings to his brother's shade.

He bathed him when the rites were done, And spake again to Bali's son: "Now listen, Prince, while I relate How first I learned the lady's fate.

Burnt by the sun's resistless might I fell and lay on Vindhya's height.

Seven nights in deadly swoon I pa.s.sed, But struggling life returned at last.

Around I bent my wondering view, But every spot was strange and new.

I scanned the sea with eager ken, And rock and brook and lake and glen, I saw gay trees their branches wave, And creepers mantling o'er the cave.

I heard the wild birds' joyous song, And waters as they foamed along, And knew the lovely hill must be Mount Vindhya by the southern sea.

Revered by heavenly beings, stood Near where I lay, a sacred wood, Where great Nisakar dwelt of yore And pains of awful penance bore.

Eight thousand seasons winged their flight Over the toiling anchorite- Upon that hill my days were spent,- And then to heaven the hermit went.

At last, with long and hard a.s.say, Down from that height I made my way, And wandered through the mountain pa.s.s Rough with the spikes of Darbha gra.s.s.

I with my misery worn, and faint Was eager to behold the saint: For often with Ja?ayus I Had sought his home in days gone by.

As nearer to the grove I drew The breeze with cooling fragrance blew, And not a tree that was not fair, With richest flower and fruit was there.

With anxious heart a while I stayed Beneath the trees' delightful shade, And soon the holy hermit, bright With fervent penance, came in sight.

Behind him bears and lions, tame As those who know their feeder, came, And tigers, deer, and snakes pursued His steps, a wondrous mult.i.tude, And turned obeisant when the sage Had reached his shady hermitage.

Then came Nisakar to my side And looked with wondering eyes, and cried: "I knew thee not, so dire a change Has made thy form and feature strange.

Where are thy glossy feathers? where The rapid wings that cleft the air?

Two vulture brothers once I knew: Each form at will could they endue.

They of the vulture race were kings, And flew with Matarisva's(774) wings.

In human shape they loved to greet Their hermit friend, and clasp his feet.

The younger was Ja?ayus, thou The elder whom I gaze on now.

Say, has disease or foeman's hate Reduced thee from thy high estate?"

Canto LXI. Sampati's Story.

"Ah me! o'erwhelmed with shame and weak With wounds," I cried, "I scarce can speak.

My hapless brother once and I Our strength of flight resolved to try.

And by our foolish pride impelled Our way through realms of ether held.

We vowed before the saints who tread The wilds about Kailasa's head, That we with following wings would chase The swift sun to his resting place.

Up on our soaring pinions through The fields of cloudless air we flew.

Beneath us far, and far away, Like chariot wheels bright cities lay, Whence in wild s.n.a.t.c.hes rose the song Of women mid the gay-clad throng, With sounds of sweetest music blent And many a tinkling ornament.

Then as our rapid wings we strained The pathway of the sun we gained.

Beneath us all the earth was seen Clad in her garb of tender green, And every river in her bed Meandered like a silver thread.

We looked on Meru far below And Vindhya and the Lord of Snow, Like elephants that bend to cool Their fever in a lilied pool.

But fervent heat and toil o'ercame The vigour of each yielding frame, Our weary hearts began to quail, And wildered sense to reel and fail.

We knew not, fainting and distressed, The north or south or east or west.

With a great strain mine eyes I turned Where the fierce sun before me burned, And seemed to my astonished eyes The equal of the earth in size.(775) At length, o'erpowered, Ja?ayus fell Without a word to say farewell, And when to earth I saw him hie I followed headlong from the sky.(776) With sheltering wings I intervened And from the sun his body screened, But lost, for heedless folly doomed, My pinions which the heat consumed.

In Janasthan, I hear them say, My hapless brother fell and lay.

I, pinionless and faint and weak, Dropped upon Vindhya's woody peak.

Now with my swift wings burnt away, Reft of my brother and my sway, From this tall mountain's summit I Will cast me headlong down and die."

Canto LXII. Sampati's Story.

"As to the saint I thus complained My bitter tears fell unrestrained.

He pondered for a while, then broke The silence, and thus calmly spoke: "Forth from thy sides again shall spring, O royal bird, each withered wing, And all thine ancient power and might Return to thee with strength of sight.

A n.o.ble deed has been foretold In prophecy p.r.o.nounced of old: Nor dark to me are future things, Seen by the light which penance brings.

A glorious king shall rise and reign, The pride of old Ikshvaku's strain.

A good and valiant prince, his heir, Shall the dear name of Rama bear.

With his brave brother Lakshma? he An exile in the woods shall be, Where Rava?, whom no G.o.d may slay,(777) Shall steal his darling wife away.

In vain the captive will be wooed With proffered love and dainty food, She will not hear, she will not taste: But, lest her beauty wane and waste, Lord Indra's self will come to her With heavenly food, and minister.

Then envoys of the Vanar race By Rama sent will seek this place.

To them, O roamer of the air, The lady's fate shalt thou declare.

Thou must not move-so maimed thou art Thou canst not from this spot depart.

Await the day and moment due, And thy burnt wings will sprout anew.