The Ramayana Part 76

When Rama heard from Bharat each Dark sorrow of his mournful speech, And tidings of his father dead, His spirits fell, his senses fled.

For the sad words his brother spoke Struck on him like a thunder stroke, Fierce as the bolt which Indra throws, The victor of his Daitya foes.

Raising his arms in anguish, he, As when the woodman hews a tree With its fair flowery branches crowned, Fainted and fell upon the ground.

Lord of the earth to earth he sank, Helpless, as when a towering bank With sudden ruin buries deep An elephant who lay asleep.

Then swift his wife and brothers flew, And water, weeping, o'er him threw.

As slowly sense and strength he gained, Fast from his eyes the tears he rained, And then in accents sad and weak Kakutstha's son began to speak, And mourning for the monarch dead, With righteous words to Bharat said: "What calls me home, when he, alas, Has gone the way which all must pa.s.s?

Of him, the best of kings bereft What guardian has Ayodhya left?

How may I please his spirit? how Delight the high-souled monarch now, Who wept for me and went above By me ungraced with mourning love?

Ah, happy brothers! you have paid Due offerings to his parting shade.

E'en when my banishment is o'er, Back to my home I go no more, To look upon the widowed state Reft of her king, disconsolate.

E'en then, O tamer of the foe, If to Ayodhya's town I go, Who will direct me as of old, Now other worlds our father hold?

From whom, my brother, shall I hear Those words which ever charmed mine ear And filled my bosom with delight Whene'er he saw me act aright?"

Thus Rama spoke: then nearer came And looking on his moonbright dame, "Sita, the king is gone," he said: "And Lakshma?, know thy sire is dead, And with the G.o.ds on high enrolled: This mournful news has Bharat told."

He spoke: the n.o.ble youths with sighs Rained down the torrents from their eyes.

And then the brothers of the chief With words of comfort soothed his grief: "Now to the king our sire who swayed The earth be due libations paid."

Soon as the monarch's fate she knew, Sharp pangs of grief smote Sita through: Nor could she look upon her lord With eyes from which the torrents poured.

And Rama strove with tender care To soothe the weeping dame's despair, And then, with piercing woe distressed, The mournful Lakshma? thus addressed: "Brother, I pray thee bring for me The pressed fruit of the Ingudi, And a bark mantle fresh and new, That I may pay this offering due.

First of the three shall Sita go, Next thou, and I the last: for so Moves the funereal pomp of woe."(379)

Sumantra of the n.o.ble mind, Gentle and modest, meek and kind, Who, follower of each princely youth, To Rama clung with constant truth, Now with the royal brothers' aid The grief of Rama soothed and stayed, And lent his arm his lord to guide Down to the river's holy side.

That lovely stream the heroes found, With woods that ever blossomed crowned, And there in bitter sorrow bent Their footsteps down the fair descent.

Then where the stream that swiftly flowed A pure pellucid shallow showed, The funeral drops they duly shed, And "Father, this be thine," they said.

But he, the lord who ruled the land, Filled from the stream his hollowed hand, And turning to the southern side Stretched out his arm and weeping cried: "This sacred water clear and pure, An offering which shall aye endure To thee, O lord of kings, I give: Accept it where the spirits live!"

Then, when the solemn rite was o'er, Came Rama to the river sh.o.r.e, And offered, with his brothers' aid, Fresh tribute to his father's shade.

With jujube fruit he mixed the seed Of Ingudis from moisture freed, And placed it on a spot o'erspread With sacred gra.s.s, and weeping said: "Enjoy, great King, the cake which we Thy children eat and offer thee!

For ne'er do blessed G.o.ds refuse To share the food which mortals use."

Then Rama turned him to retrace The path that brought him to the place, And up the mountain's pleasant side Where lovely lawns lay fair, he hied.

Soon as his cottage door he gained His brothers to his breast he strained.

From them and Sita in their woes So loud the cry of weeping rose, That like the roar of lions round The mountain rolled the echoing sound.

And Bharat's army shook with fear The weeping of the chiefs to hear.

"Bharat," the soldiers cried, "'tis plain, His brother Rama meets again, And with these cries that round us ring They sorrow for their sire the king."

Then leaving car and wain behind, One eager thought in every mind, Swift toward the weeping, every man, As each could find a pa.s.sage, ran.

Some thither bent their eager course With car, and elephant, and horse, And youthful captains on their feet With longing sped their lord to meet, As though the new-come prince had been An exile for long years unseen.

Earth beaten in their frantic zeal By clattering hoof and rumbling wheel, Sent forth a deafening noise as loud As heaven when black with many a cloud.

Then, with their consorts gathered near, Wild elephants in sudden fear Rushed to a distant wood, and shed An odour round them as they fled.

And every silvan thing that dwelt Within those shades the terror felt, Deer, lion, tiger, boar and roe, Bison, wild-cow, and buffalo.

And when the tumult wild they heard, With trembling pinions flew each bird, From tree, from thicket, and from lake, Swan, kol, curlew, crane, and drake.

With men the ground was overspread, With startled birds the sky o'erhead.

Then on his sacrificial ground The sinless, glorious chief was found.

Loading with curses deep and loud The hump-back and the queen, the crowd Whose cheeks were wet, whose eyes were dim, In fond affection ran to him.

While the big tears their eyes bedewed, He looked upon the mult.i.tude, And then as sire and mother do, His arms about his loved ones threw.

Some to his feet with reverence pressed, Some in his arms he strained: Each friend, with kindly words addressed, Due share of honour gained.

Then, by their mighty woe o'ercome, The weeping heroes' cry Filled, like the roar of many a drum, Hill, cavern, earth, and sky.

Canto CIV. The Meeting With The Queens.

Vasish?ha with his soul athirst To look again on Rama, first In line the royal widows placed, And then the way behind them traced.

The ladies moving, faint and slow, Saw the fair stream before them flow, And by the bank their steps were led Which the two brothers visited.

Kausalya with her faded cheek And weeping eyes began to speak, And thus in mournful tones addressed The queen Sumitra and the rest: "See in the wood the bank's descent, Which the two orphan youths frequent, Whose n.o.ble spirits never fall, Though woes surround them, reft of all.

Thy son with love that never tires Draws water hence which mine requires.

This day, for lowly toil unfit, His pious task thy son should quit."

As on the long-eyed lady strayed, On holy gra.s.s, whose points were laid Directed to the southern sky, The funeral offering met her eye.

When Rama's humble gift she spied Thus to the queens Kausalya cried: "The gift of Rama's hand behold, His tribute to the king high-souled, Offered to him, as texts require, Lord of Ikshvaku's line, his sire!

Not such I deem the funeral food Of kings with G.o.dlike might endued.

Can he who knew all pleasures, he Who ruled the earth from sea to sea, The mighty lord of monarchs, feed On Ingudi's extracted seed?

In all the world there cannot be A woe, I ween, more sad to see, Than that my glorious son should make His funeral gift of such a cake.

The ancient text I oft have heard This day is true in every word: "Ne'er do the blessed G.o.ds refuse To eat the food their children use.' "

The ladies soothed the weeping dame: To Rama's hermitage they came, And there the hero met their eyes Like a G.o.d fallen from the skies.

Him joyless, reft of all, they viewed, And tears their mournful eyes bedewed.

The truthful hero left his seat, And clasped the ladies' lotus feet, And they with soft hands brushed away The dust that on his shoulders lay.

Then Lakshma?, when he saw each queen With weeping eyes and troubled mien, Near to the royal ladies drew And paid them gentle reverence too.

He, Dasaratha's offspring, signed The heir of bliss by Fortune kind, Received from every dame no less Each mark of love and tenderness.

And Sita came and bent before The widows, while her eyes ran o'er, And pressed their feet with many a tear.

They when they saw the lady dear Pale, worn with dwelling in the wild, Embraced her as a darling child: "Daughter of royal Janak, bride Of Dasaratha's son," they cried, "How couldst thou, offspring of a king, Endure this woe and suffering In the wild forest? When I trace Each sign of trouble on thy face- That lotus which the sun has dried, That lily by the tempest tried, That gold whereon the dust is spread, That moon whence all the light is fled- Sorrow a.s.sails my heart, alas!

As fire consumes the wood and gra.s.s."

Then Rama, as she spoke distressed, The feet of Saint Vasish?ha pressed, Touched them with reverential love, Then near him took his seat: Thus Indra clasps in realms above The Heavenly Teacher's(380) feet.

Then with each counsellor and peer, Bharat of duteous mind, With citizens and captains near, Sat humbly down behind.

When with his hands to him upraised, In devotee's attire, Bharat upon his brother gazed Whose glory shone like fire, As when the pure Mahendra bends To the great Lord of Life, Among his n.o.ble crowd of friends This anxious thought was rife: "What words to Raghu's son to-day Will royal Bharat speak, Whose heart has been so prompt to pay Obeisance fond and meek?"

Then steadfast Rama, Lakshma? wise, Bharat for truth renowned, Shone like three fires that heavenward rise With holy priests around.

Canto CV. Rama's Speech.

A while they sat, each lip compressed, Then Bharat thus his chief addressed: "My mother here was made content; To me was given the government.

This now, my lord, I yield to thee: Enjoy it, from all trouble free.

Like a great bridge the floods have rent, Impetuous in their wild descent, All other hands but thine in vain Would strive the burthen to maintain.

In vain the a.s.s with steeds would vie, With Tarkshya,(381) birds that wing the sky; So, lord of men, my power is slight To rival thine imperial might.

Great joys his happy days attend On whom the hopes of men depend, But wretched is the life he leads Who still the aid of others needs.

And if the seed a man has sown, With care and kindly nurture grown, Rear its huge trunk and spring in time Too bulky for a dwarf to climb, Yet, with perpetual blossom gay, No fruit upon its boughs display, Ne'er can that tree, thus nursed in vain, Approval of the virtuous gain.

The simile is meant to be Applied, O mighty-armed, to thee, Because, our lord and leader, thou Protectest not thy people now.

O, be the longing wish fulfilled Of every chief of house and guild, To see again their sun-bright lord Victorious to his realm restored!

As thou returnest through the crowd Let roars of elephants be loud.

And each fair woman lift her voice And in her new-found king rejoice."

The people all with longing moved, The words that Bharat spoke approved, And crowding near to Rama pressed The hero with the same request.

The steadfast Rama, when he viewed His glorious brother's mournful mood, With each ambitious thought controlled, Thus the lamenting prince consoled: "I cannot do the things I will, For Rama is but mortal still.