The Ramayana Part 98
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If in thy breast the longing rise To make thine own the beauteous prize, Up, let thy better foot begin The journey and the treasure win.
If, giant Lord, thy favouring eyes Regard the plan which I advise, Up, cast all fear and doubt away And execute the words I say Come, giant King, this treasure seek, For thou art strong and they are weak.
Let Sita of the faultless frame Be borne away and be thy dame.
Thy host in Janasthan who dwelt Forth to the battle hied.
And by the shafts which Rama dealt They perished in their pride.
Dusha? and Khara breathe no more, Laid low upon the plain.
Arise, and ere the day be o'er Take vengeance for the slain."
Canto x.x.xV. Ravan's Journey.
When Rava?, by her fury spurred, That terrible advice had heard, He bade his n.o.bles quit his side, And to the work his thought applied.
He turned his anxious mind to scan On every side the hardy plan: The gain against the risk he laid, Each hope and fear with care surveyed, And in his heart at length decreed To try performance of the deed.
Then steady in his dire intent The giant to the courtyard went.
There to his charioteer he cried, "Bring forth the car whereon I ride."
Aye ready at his master's word The charioteer the order heard, And yoked with active zeal the best Of chariots at his lord's behest.
a.s.ses with heads of goblins drew That wondrous car where'er it flew.
Obedient to the will it rolled Adorned with gems and glistering gold.
Then mounting, with a roar as loud As thunder from a labouring cloud, The mighty monarch to the tide Of Ocean, lord of rivers, hied.
White was the shade above him spread, White chouris waved around his head, And he with gold and jewels bright Shone like the glossy lazulite.
Ten necks and twenty arms had he: His royal gear was good to see.
The heavenly G.o.ds' insatiate foe, Who made the blood of hermits flow, He like the Lord of Hills appeared With ten huge heads to heaven upreared.
In the great car whereon he rode, Like some dark cloud the giant showed, When round it in their close array The cranes 'mid wreaths of lightning play.
He looked, and saw, from realms of air, The rocky sh.o.r.e of ocean, where Unnumbered trees delightful grew With flower and fruit of every hue.
He looked on many a lilied pool With silvery waters fresh and cool, And sh.o.r.es like s.p.a.cious altars meet For holy hermits' lone retreat.
The graceful palm adorned the scene, The plantain waved her glossy green.
There grew the sal and betel, there On bending boughs the flowers were fair.
There hermits dwelt who tamed each sense By strictest rule of abstinence: Gandharvas, Kinnars,(488) thronged the place, Nagas and birds of heavenly race.
Bright minstrels of the ethereal quire, And saints exempt from low desire, With ajas, sons of Brahma's line, Marichipas of seed divine, Vaikhanasas and Mashas strayed, And Balakhilyas(489) in the shade.
The lovely nymphs of heaven were there, Celestial wreaths confined their hair, And to each form new grace was lent By wealth of heavenly ornament.
Well skilled was each in play and dance And gentle arts of dalliance.
The glorious wife of many a G.o.d Those beautiful recesses trod, There G.o.ds and Danavs, all who eat The food of heaven, rejoiced to meet.
The swan and Saras thronged each bay With curlews, ducks, and divers gay, Where the sea spray rose soft and white O'er rocks of glossy lazulite.
As his swift way the fiend pursued Pale chariots of the G.o.ds he viewed, Bearing each lord whose rites austere Had raised him to the heavenly sphere.
Thereon celestial garlands hung, There music played and songs were sung.
Then bright Gandharvas met his view, And heavenly nymphs, as on he flew.
He saw the sandal woods below, And precious trees of odorous flow, That to the air around them lent Their riches of delightful scent; Nor failed his roving eye to mark Tall aloe trees in grove and park.
He looked on wood with ca.s.sias filled, And plants which balmy sweets distilled, Where her fair flowers the betel showed And the bright pods of pepper glowed.
The pearls in many a silvery heap Lay on the margin of the deep.
And grey rocks rose amid the red Of coral washed from ocean's bed.
High soared the mountain peaks that bore Treasures of gold and silver ore, And leaping down the rocky walls Came wild and glorious waterfalls.
Fair towns which grain and treasure held, And dames who every gem excelled, He saw outspread beneath him far, With steed, and elephant, and car.
That ocean sh.o.r.e he viewed that showed Fair as the blessed G.o.ds' abode Where cool delightful breezes played O'er levels in the freshest shade.
He saw a fig-tree like a cloud With mighty branches earthward bowed.
It stretched a hundred leagues and made For hermit bands a welcome shade.
Thither the feathered king of yore An elephant and tortoise bore, And lighted on a bough to eat The captives of his taloned feet.
The bough unable to sustain The crus.h.i.+ng weight and sudden strain, Loaded with sprays and leaves of spring Gave way beneath the feathered king.
Under the shadow of the tree Dwelt many a saint and devotee, ajas, the sons of Brahma's line, Mashas, Marichipas divine.
Vaikhanasas, and all the race Of Balakhilyas, loved the place.
But pitying their sad estate The feathered monarch raised the weight Of the huge bough, and bore away The loosened load and captured prey.
A hundred leagues away he sped, Then on his monstrous booty fed, And with the bough he smote the lands Where dwell the wild Nishada bands.
High joy was his because his deed From jeopardy the hermits freed.
That pride for great deliverance wrought A double share of valour brought.
His soul conceived the high emprise To s.n.a.t.c.h the Amrit from the skies.
He rent the nets of iron first, Then through the jewel chamber burst, And bore the drink of heaven away That watched in Indra's palace lay.
Such was the hermit-sheltering tree Which Rava? turned his eye to see.
Still marked where Garu? sought to rest, The fig-tree bore the name of Blest.
When Rava? stayed his chariot o'er The ocean's heart-enchanting sh.o.r.e, He saw a hermitage that stood Sequestered in the holy wood.
He saw the fiend Maricha there With deerskin garb, and matted hair Coiled up in hermit guise, who spent His days by rule most abstinent.
As guest and host are wont to meet, They met within that lone retreat.
Before the king Maricha placed Food never known to human taste.
He entertained his guest with meat And gave him water for his feet, And then addressed the giant king With timely words of questioning:
"Lord, is it well with thee, and well With those in Lanka's town who dwell?
What sudden thought, what urgent need Has brought thee with impetuous speed?"
The fiend Maricha thus addressed Rava? the king, his mighty guest, And he, well skilled in arts that guide The eloquent, in turn replied:
Canto x.x.xVI. Ravan's Speech.
"Hear me, Maricha, while I speak, And tell thee why thy home I seek.
Sick and distressed am I, and see My surest hope and help in thee.
Of Janasthan I need not tell, Where Surpa?akha, Khara, dwell, And Dusha? with the arm of might, And Trisiras, the fierce in fight, Who feeds on human flesh and gore, And many n.o.ble giants more, Who roam in dark of midnight through The forest, brave and strong and true.
By my command they live at ease And slaughter saints and devotees.
Those twice seven thousand giants, all Obedient to their captain's call, Joying in war and ruthless deeds Follow where mighty Khara leads.
Those fearless warrior bands who roam Through Janasthan their forest home, In all their terrible array Met Rama in the battle fray.
Girt with all weapons forth they sped With Khara at the army's head.
The front of battle Rama held: With furious wrath his bosom swelled.
Without a word his hate to show He launched the arrows from his bow.
On the fierce hosts the missiles came, Each burning with destructive flame, The twice seven thousand fell o'erthrown By him, a man, on foot, alone.
Khara the army's chief and pride, And Dusha?, fearless warrior, died, And Trisiras the fierce was slain, And Da??ak wood was free again.
He, banished by his angry sire, Roams with his wife in mean attire.
This wretch, his Warrior tribe's disgrace Has slain the best of giant race.
Harsh, wicked, fierce and greedy-souled, A fool, with senses uncontrolled, No thought of duty stirs his breast: He joys to see the world distressed.
He sought the wood with fair pretence Of truthful life and innocence, But his false hand my sister left Mangled, of nose and ears bereft.
This Rama's wife who bears the name Of Sita, in her face and frame Fair as a daughter of the skies,- Her will I seize and bring the prize Triumphant from the forest shade: For this I seek thy willing aid.
If thou, O mighty one, wilt lend Thy help and stand beside thy friend, I with my brothers may defy All G.o.ds embattled in the sky.
Come, aid me now, for thine the power To succour in the doubtful hour.
Thou art in war and time of fear, For heart and hand, without a peer.
For thou art skilled in art and wile, A warrior brave and trained in guile.
The Ramayana Part 98
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The Ramayana Part 98 summary
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