Ramayana, Book 2, The

<SPAN name="toc241" id="toc241"></SPAN> <SPAN name="pdf242" id="pdf242"></SPAN> <SPAN name="CantoII-XLIII" id="CantoII-XLIII" class="tei tei-anchor"></SPAN> <h2 class="tei tei-head" style="text-align: left; margin-bottom: 2.88em; margin-top: 2.88em"><span style="font-size: 144%">Canto XLIII. Kausalyá's Lament.</span></h2> <div class="tei tei-lg" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em; margin-top: 1.00em"> <div>Kauśalyá saw the monarch lie</div> <div>With drooping frame and failing eye,</div> <div>And for her banished son distressed</div> <div>With these sad words her lord addressed:</div> <div><span class="tei tei-q" >“Kaikeyí, cruel, false, and vile</span></div> <div>Has cast the venom of her guile</div> <div>On Ráma lord of men, and she</div> <div>Will ravage like a snake set free;</div> <div>And more and more my soul alarm,</div> <div>Like a dire serpent bent on harm,</div> <div>For triumph crowns each dark intent,</div> <div>And Ráma to the wild is sent.</div> <div>Ah, were he doomed but here to stray</div> <div>Begging his food from day to day,</div> <div>Or do, enslaved, Kaikeyí's will,</div> <div>This were a boon, a comfort still.</div> <div>But she, as chose her cruel hate,</div> <div>Has hurled him from his high estate,</div> <div>As Bráhmans when the moon is new</div> <div>Cast to the ground the demons' due.<SPAN id="noteref_318" name="noteref_318" href="#note_318"><span class="tei tei-noteref" ><span style="font-size: 60%; vertical-align: super">318</span></span></SPAN></div> <div>The long-armed hero, like the lord</div> <div>Of Nágas, with his bow and sword</div> <div>Begins, I ween, his forest life</div> <div>With Lakshmaṇ and his faithful wife.</div> <div>Ah, how will fare the exiles now,</div> <div>Whom, moved by Queen Kaikeyí, thou</div> <div>Hast sent in forests to abide,</div> <div>Bred in delights, by woe untried?</div> <div>Far banished when their lives are young,</div> <div>With the fair fruit before them hung,</div> <div>Deprived of all their rank that suits,</div> <div>How will they live on grain and roots?</div> <div>O, that my years of woe were passed,</div> <div>And the glad hour were come at last</div> <div>When I shall see my children dear,</div> <div>Ráma, his wife, and Lakshmaṇ here!</div> <div>When shall Ayodhyá, wild with glee,</div> <div>Again those mighty heroes see,</div> <div>And decked with wreaths her banners wave</div> <div>To welcome home the true and brave?</div> <div>When will the beautiful city view</div> <div>With happy eyes the lordly two</div> <div>Returning, joyful as the main</div> <div>When the dear moon is full again?</div> <div>When, like some mighty bull who leads</div> <div>The cow exulting through the meads,</div> <div>Will Ráma through the city ride,</div> <div>Strong-armed, with Sítá at his side?</div> <div>When will ten thousand thousand meet</div> <div>And crowd Ayodhyá's royal street,</div> <div>And grain in joyous welcome throw</div> <div>Upon my sons who tame the foe?</div> <div>When with delight shall youthful bands</div> <div>Of Bráhman maidens in their hands</div> <span class="tei tei-pb" id="page146"></span><SPAN name="Pg146" id="Pg146" class="tei tei-anchor"></SPAN> <div>Bear fruit and flowers in goodly show,</div> <div>And circling round Ayodhyá go?</div> <div>With ripened judgment of a sage,</div> <div>And godlike in his blooming age,</div> <div>When shall my virtuous son appear,</div> <div>Like kindly rain, our hearts to cheer?</div> <div>Ah, in a former life, I ween,</div> <div>This hand of mine, most base and mean,</div> <div>Has dried the udders of the kine</div> <div>And left the thirsty calves to pine.</div> <div>Hence, as the lion robs the cow,</div> <div>Kaikeyí makes me childless now,</div> <div>Exulting from her feebler foe</div> <div>To rend the son she cherished so.</div> <div>I had but him, in Scripture skilled,</div> <div>With every grace his soul was filled.</div> <div>Now not a joy has life to give,</div> <div>And robbed of him I would not live:</div> <div>Yea, all my days are dark and drear</div> <div>If he, my darling, be not near,</div> <div>And Lakshmaṇ brave, my heart to cheer.</div> <div>As for my son I mourn and yearn,</div> <div>The quenchless flames of anguish burn</div> <div>And kill me with the pain,</div> <div>As in the summer's noontide blaze</div> <div>The glorious Day-God with his rays</div> <div><span class="tei tei-q" >Consumes the parching plain.”</span></div> </div> <SPAN name="toc243" id="toc243"></SPAN> <SPAN name="pdf244" id="pdf244"></SPAN> <SPAN name="CantoII-XLIV" id="CantoII-XLIV" class="tei tei-anchor"></SPAN> <h2 class="tei tei-head" style="text-align: left; margin-bottom: 2.88em; margin-top: 2.88em"><span style="font-size: 144%">Canto XLIV. Sumitrá's Speech.</span></h2> <div class="tei tei-lg" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em; margin-top: 1.00em"> <div>Kauśalyá ceased her sad lament,</div> <div>Of beauteous dames most excellent.</div> <div>Sumitrá who to duty clave,</div> <div>In righteous words this answer gave:</div> <div><span class="tei tei-q" >“Dear Queen, all noble virtues grace</span></div> <div>Thy son, of men the first in place.</div> <div>Why dost thou shed these tears of woe</div> <div>With bitter grief lamenting so?</div> <div>If Ráma, leaving royal sway</div> <div>Has hastened to the woods away,</div> <div>'Tis for his high-souled father's sake</div> <div>That he his premise may not break.</div> <div>He to the path of duty clings</div> <div>Which lordly fruit hereafter brings—</div> <div>The path to which the righteous cleave—</div> <div>For him, dear Queen, thou shouldst not grieve.</div> <div>And Lakshmaṇ too, the blameless-souled,</div> <div>The same high course with him will hold,</div> <div>And mighty bliss on him shall wait,</div> <div>So tenderly compassionate.</div> <div>And Sítá, bred with tender care,</div> <div>Well knows what toils await her there,</div> <div>But in her love she will not part</div> <div>From Ráma of the virtuous heart.</div> <div>Now has thy son through all the world</div> <div>The banner of his fame unfurled;</div> <div>True, modest, careful of his vow,</div> <div>What has he left to aim at now?</div> <div>The sun will mark his mighty soul,</div> <div>His wisdom, sweetness, self-control,</div> <div>Will spare from pain his face and limb,</div> <div>And with soft radiance shine for him.</div> <div>For him through forest glades shall spring</div> <div>A soft auspicious breeze, and bring</div> <div>Its tempered heat and cold to play</div> <div>Around him ever night and day.</div> <div>The pure cold moonbeams shall delight</div> <div>The hero as he sleeps at night,</div> <div>And soothe him with the soft caress</div> <div>Of a fond parent's tenderness.</div> <div>To him, the bravest of the brave,</div> <div>His heavenly arms the Bráhman gave,</div> <div>When fierce Suváhu dyed the plain</div> <div>With his life-blood by Ráma slain.</div> <div>Still trusting to his own right arm</div> <div>Thy hero son will fear no harm:</div> <div>As in his father's palace, he</div> <div>In the wild woods will dauntless be.</div> <div>Whene'er he lets his arrows fly</div> <div>His stricken foemen fall and die:</div> <div>And is that prince of peerless worth</div> <div>Too weak to keep and sway the earth?</div> <div>His sweet pure soul, his beauty's charm,</div> <div>His hero heart, his warlike arm,</div> <div>Will soon redeem his rightful reign</div> <div>When from the woods he comes again.</div> <div>The Bráhmans on the prince's head</div> <div>King-making drops shall quickly shed,</div> <div>And Sítá, Earth, and Fortune share</div> <div>The glories which await the heir.</div> <div>For him, when forth his chariot swept,</div> <div>The crowd that thronged Ayodhyá wept,</div> <div>With agonizing woe distressed.</div> <div>With him in hermít's mantle dressed</div> <div>In guise of Sítá Lakshmí went,</div> <div>And none his glory may prevent.</div> <div>Yea, naught to him is high or hard,</div> <div>Before whose steps, to be his guard,</div> <div>Lakshmaṇ, the best who draws the bow,</div> <div>With spear, shaft, sword rejoiced to go.</div> <div>His wanderings in the forest o'er,</div> <div>Thine eyes shall see thy son once more,</div> <div>Quit thy faint heart, thy grief dispel,</div> <div>For this, O Queen, is truth I tell.</div> <div>Thy son returning, moonlike, thence,</div> <div>Shall at thy feet do reverence,</div> <div>And, blest and blameless lady, thou</div> <div>Shalt see his head to touch them bow,</div> <div>Yea, thou shalt see thy son made king</div> <div>When he returns with triumphing,</div> <div>And how thy happy eyes will brim</div> <div>With tears of joy to look on him!</div> <div>Thou, blameless lady, shouldst the whole</div> <div>Of the sad people here console:</div> <div>Why in thy tender heart allow</div> <div>This bitter grief to harbour now?</div> <div>As the long banks of cloud distil</div> <div>Their water when they see the hill,</div> <span class="tei tei-pb" id="page147"></span><SPAN name="Pg147" id="Pg147" class="tei tei-anchor"></SPAN> <div>So shall the drops of rapture run</div> <div>From thy glad eyes to see thy son</div> <div>Returning, as he lowly bends</div> <div><span class="tei tei-q" >To greet thee, girt by all his friends.”</span></div> </div> <div class="tei tei-lg" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em; margin-top: 1.00em"> <div>Thus soothing, kindly eloquent,</div> <div>With every hopeful argument</div> <div>Kauśalyá's heart by sorrow rent,</div> <div>Fair Queen Sumitrá ceased.</div> <div>Kauśalyá heard each pleasant plea,</div> <div>And grief began to leave her free,</div> <div>As the light clouds of autumn flee,</div> <div>Their watery stores decreased.</div> </div> <SPAN name="toc245" id="toc245"></SPAN> <SPAN name="pdf246" id="pdf246"></SPAN> <SPAN name="CantoII-XLV" id="CantoII-XLV" class="tei tei-anchor"></SPAN> <h2 class="tei tei-head" style="text-align: left; margin-bottom: 2.88em; margin-top: 2.88em"><span style="font-size: 144%">Canto XLV. The Tamasá.</span></h2> <div class="tei tei-lg" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em; margin-top: 1.00em"> <div>Their tender love the people drew</div> <div>To follow Ráma brave and true,</div> <div>The high-souled hero, as he went</div> <div>Forth from his home to banishment.</div> <div>The king himself his friends obeyed,</div> <div>And turned him homeward as they prayed.</div> <div>But yet the people turned not back,</div> <div>Still close on Ráma's chariot track.</div> <div>For they who in Ayodhyá dwelt</div> <div>For him such fond affection felt,</div> <div>Decked with all grace and glories high,</div> <div>The dear full moon of every eye.</div> <div>Though much his people prayed and wept,</div> <div>Kakutstha's son his purpose kept,</div> <div>And still his journey would pursue</div> <div>To keep the king his father true.</div> <div>Deep in the hero's bosom sank</div> <div>Their love, whose signs his glad eye drank.</div> <div>He spoke to cheer them, as his own</div> <div>Dear children, in a loving tone:</div> <div><span class="tei tei-q" >“If ye would grant my fond desire,</span></div> <div>Give Bharat now that love entire</div> <div>And reverence shown to me by all</div> <div>Who dwell within Ayodhyá's wall.</div> <div>For he, Kaikeyí's darling son,</div> <div>His virtuous career will run,</div> <div>And ever bound by duty's chain</div> <div>Consult your weal and bliss and gain.</div> <div>In judgment old, in years a child,</div> <div>With hero virtues meek and mild,</div> <div>A fitting lord is he to cheer</div> <div>His people and remove their fear.</div> <div>In him all kingly gifts abound,</div> <div>More noble than in me are found:</div> <div>Imperial prince, well proved and tried—</div> <div>Obey him as your lord and guide.</div> <div>And grant, I pray, the boon I ask:</div> <div>To please the king be still your task,</div> <div>That his fond heart, while I remain</div> <div><span class="tei tei-q" >Far in the wood, may feel no pain.”</span></div> </div> <div class="tei tei-lg" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em; margin-top: 1.00em"> <div>The more he showed his will to tread</div> <div>The path where filial duty led,</div> <div>The more the people, round him thronged,</div> <div>For their dear Ráma's empire longed.</div> <div>Still more attached his followers grew,</div> <div>As Ráma, with his brother, drew</div> <div>The people with his virtues' ties,</div> <div>Lamenting all with tear-dimmed eyes.</div> <div>The saintly twice-born, triply old</div> <div>In glory, knowledge, seasons told,</div> <div>With hoary heads that shook and bowed,</div> <div>Their voices raised and spake aloud:</div> <div><span class="tei tei-q" >“O steeds, who best and noblest are,</span></div> <div>Who whirl so swiftly Ráma's car,</div> <div>Go not, return: we call on you:</div> <div>Be to your master kind and true.</div> <div>For speechless things are swift to hear,</div> <div>And naught can match a horse's ear,</div> <div>O generous steeds, return, when thus</div> <div>You hear the cry of all of us.</div> <div>Each vow he keeps most firm and sure,</div> <div>And duty makes his spirit pure.</div> <div>Back with our chief! not wood-ward hence;</div> <div><span class="tei tei-q" >Back to his royal residence!”</span></div> </div> <div class="tei tei-lg" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em; margin-top: 1.00em"> <div>Soon as he saw the aged band.</div> <div>Exclaiming in their misery, stand,</div> <div>And their sad cries around him rang,</div> <div>Swift from his chariot Ráma sprang.</div> <div>Then, still upon his journey bent,</div> <div>With Sítá and with Lakshmaṇ went</div> <div>The hero by the old men's side</div> <div>Suiting to theirs his shortened stride.</div> <div>He could not pass the twice-born throng</div> <div>As weariedly they walked along:</div> <div>With pitying heart, with tender eye,</div> <div>He could not in his chariot fly.</div> <div>When the steps of Ráma viewed</div> <div>That still his onward course pursued,</div> <div>Woe shook the troubled heart of each,</div> <div>And burnt with grief they spoke this speech—</div> </div> <div class="tei tei-lg" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em; margin-top: 1.00em"> <div><span class="tei tei-q" >“With thee, O Ráma, to the wood</span></div> <div>All Bráhmans go and Bráhmanhood:</div> <div>Borne on our aged shoulders, see,</div> <div>Our fires of worship go with thee.</div> <div>Bright canopies that lend their shade</div> <div>In Vájapeya<SPAN id="noteref_319" name="noteref_319" href="#note_319"><span class="tei tei-noteref" ><span style="font-size: 60%; vertical-align: super">319</span></span></SPAN> rites displayed,</div> <div>In plenteous store are borne behind</div> <div>Like cloudlets in the autumn wind.</div> <div>No shelter from the sun hast thou,</div> <div>And, lest his fury burn thy brow,</div> <div>These sacrificial shades we bear</div> <div>Shall aid thee in the noontide glare.</div> <div>Our hearts, who ever loved to pore</div> <div>On sacred text and Vedic lore,</div> <div>Now all to thee, beloved, turn,</div> <div>And for a life in forests yearn.</div> <div>Deep in our aged bosoms lies</div> <div>The Vedas' lore, the wealth we prize,</div> <div>There still, like wives at home, shall dwell,</div> <div>Whose love and truth protect them well.</div> <span class="tei tei-pb" id="page148"></span><SPAN name="Pg148" id="Pg148" class="tei tei-anchor"></SPAN> <div>To follow thee our hearts are bent;</div> <div>We need not plan or argument.</div> <div>All else in duty's law we slight,</div> <div>For following thee is following right.</div> <div>O noble Prince, retrace thy way:</div> <div>O, hear us, Ráma, as we lay,</div> <div>With many tears and many prayers,</div> <div>Our aged heads and swan-white hairs</div> <div>Low in the dust before thy feet;</div> <div>O, hear us, Ráma, we entreat.</div> <div>Full many of these who with thee run,</div> <div>Their sacred rites had just begun.</div> <div>Unfinished yet those rites remain;</div> <div>But finished if thou turn again.</div> <div>All rooted life and things that move</div> <div>To thee their deep affection prove.</div> <div>To them, when warmed by love, they glow</div> <div>And sue to thee, some favour show,</div> <div>Each lowly bush, each towering tree</div> <div>Would follow too for love of thee.</div> <div>Bound by its root it must remain;</div> <div>But—all it can—its boughs complain,</div> <div>As when the wild wind rushes by</div> <div>It tells its woe in groan and sigh.</div> <div>No more through air the gay birds flit,</div> <div>But, foodless, melancholy sit</div> <div>Together on the branch and call</div> <div><span class="tei tei-q" >To thee whose kind heart feels for all.”</span></div> </div> <div class="tei tei-lg" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em; margin-top: 1.00em"> <div>As wailed the aged Bráhmans, bent</div> <div>To turn him back, with wild lament,</div> <div>Seemed Tamasá herself to aid,</div> <div>Checking his progress, as they prayed.</div> <div>Sumantra from the chariot freed</div> <div>With ready hand each weary steed;</div> <div>He groomed them with the utmost heed,</div> </div> <div class="tei tei-lg" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em; margin-top: 1.00em"> <div>Their limbs he bathed and dried,</div> <div>Then led them forth to drink and feed</div> <div>At pleasure in the grassy mead</div> <div>That fringed the river side.</div> </div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />