The Ramayana Part 166

While Raghu's son undaunted gazed, The waters of the deep were raised, And, still uplifted more and more, Leapt in wild flood upon the sh.o.r.e.

Still Rama looked upon the tide And kept his post unterrified.

Then from the seething flood upreared Majestic Ocean's form appeared, As rising from his eastern height Springs through the sky the Lord of Light.

Attendant on their monarch came Sea serpents with their eyes aflame.

Like lazulite mid burning gold His form was wondrous to behold.

Bright with each fairest precious stone A chain about his neck was thrown.

Calm shone his lotus eyes beneath The blossoms of his heavenly wreath, And many a pearl and sea-born gem Flashed in the monarch's diadem.

There Ganga, tributary queen, And Sindhu(934) by his lord, were seen, And every stream and brook renowned In ancient story girt him round.

Then, as the waters rose and swelled, The king with suppliant hands upheld, His glorious head to Rama bent And thus addressed him reverent: "Air, ether, fire, earth, water, true To nature's will, their course pursue; And I, as ancient laws ordain, Unfordable must still remain.

Yet, Raghu's son, my counsel hear: I ne'er for love or hope or fear Will pile my waters in a heap And leave a pathway through the deep.

Still shall my care for thee provide An easy pa.s.sage o'er the tide, And like a city's paven street Shall be the road beneath thy feet."

He ceased: and Rama spoke again: "This spell is ne'er invoked in vain.

Where shall the magic shaft, to spend The fury of its might, descend?"

"Shoot," Ocean cried, "thine arrow forth With all its fury to the north, Where sacred Drumakulya lies, Whose glory with thy glory vies.

There dwells a wild Abhira(935) race, As vile in act as foul of face, Fierce Dasyus(936) who delight in ill, And drink my tributary rill.

My soul no longer may endure Their neighbourhood and touch impure.

At these, O son of Raghu, aim Thine arrow with the quenchless flame."

Swift from the bow, as Rama drew His cord, the fiery arrow flew.

Earth groaned to feel the wound, and sent A rush of water through the rent; And famed for ever is the well Of Vra?a(937) where the arrow fell.

Then every brook and lake beside Throughout the region Rama dried.

But yet he gave a boon to bless And fertilize the wilderness: No fell disease should taint the air, And sheep and kine should prosper there: Earth should produce each pleasant root, The stately trees should bend with fruit; Oil, milk, and honey should abound, And fragrant herbs should clothe the ground.

Then spake the king of brooks and seas To Raghu's son in words like these: "Now let a wondrous task be done By Nala, Visvakarma's son, Who, born of one of Vanar race, Inherits by his father's grace A share of his celestial art.

Call Nala to perform his part, And he, divinely taught and skilled, A bridge athwart the sea shall build."

He spoke and vanished. Nala, best Of Vanar chiefs, the king addressed: "O'er the deep sea where monsters play A bridge, O Rama, will I lay; For, sharer of my father's skill, Mine is the power and mine the will.

'Tis vain to try each gentler art To bribe and soothe the thankless heart; In vain on such is mercy spent; It yields to naught but punishment.

Through fear alone will Ocean now A pa.s.sage o'er his waves allow.

My mother, ere she bore her son, This boon from Visvakarma won: "O Mandari, thy child shall be In skill and glory next to me."

But why unbidden should I fill Thine ear with praises of my skill?

Command the Vanar hosts to lay Foundations for the bridge to-day."

He spoke: and swift at Rama's hest Up sprang the Vanars from their rest, The mandate of the king obeyed And sought the forest's mighty shade.

Unrooted trees to earth they threw, And to the sea the timber drew.

The stately palm was bowed and bent, Asokas from the ground were rent, And towering Sals and light bamboos, And trees with flowers of varied hues, With loveliest creepers wreathed and crowned, Shook, reeled, and fell upon the ground.

With mighty engines piles of stone And seated hills were overthrown: Unprisoned waters sprang on high, In rain descending from the sky: And ocean with a roar and swell Heaved wildly when the mountains fell.

Then the great bridge of wondrous strength Was built, a hundred leagues in length.

Rocks huge as autumn clouds bound fast With cordage from the sh.o.r.e were cast, And fragments of each riven hill, And trees whose flowers adorned them still.

Wild was the tumult, loud the din As ponderous rocks went thundering in.

Ere set of sun, so toiled each crew, Ten leagues and four the structure grew; The labours of the second day Gave twenty more of ready way, And on the fifth, when sank the sun, The whole stupendous work was done.

O'er the broad way the Vanars sped, Nor swayed it with their countless tread.

Exultant on the ocean strand Vibhisha? stood, and, mace in hand, Longed eager for the onward way, And chafed impatient at delay.

Then thus to Rama trained and tried In battle King Sugriva cried: "Come, Hanuman's broad back ascend; Let Angad help to Lakshma? lend.

These high above the sea shall bear Their burthen through the ways of air."

So, with Sugriva, borne o'erhead Ikshvaku's sons the legions led.

Behind, the Vanar hosts pursued Their march in endless mult.i.tude.

Some skimmed the surface of the wave, To some the air a pa.s.sage gave.

Amid their ceaseless roar the sound Of Ocean's fearful voice was drowned, As o'er the bridge by Nala planned They hastened on to Lanka's strand, Where, by the pleasant brooks, mid trees Loaded with fruit, they took their ease.

Canto XXIII. The Omens.

Then Rama, peerless in the skill That marks each sign of good and ill, Strained his dear brother to his breast, And thus with prudent words addressed: "Now, Lakshma?, by the water's side In fruitful groves the host divide, That warriors of each woodland race May keep their own appointed place.

Dire is the danger: loss of friends, Of Vanars and of bears, impends.

Distained with dust the breezes blow, And earth is shaken from below.

The tall hills rock from foot to crown, And stately trees come toppling down.

In threatening shape, with voice of fear, The clouds like cannibals appear, And rain in fitful torrents, red With sanguinary drops, is shed.

Long streaks of lurid light invest The evening skies from east to west.

And from the sun at times a ball Of angry fire is seen to fall.

From every glen and brake is heard The boding voice of beast and bird: From den and lair night-prowlers run And shriek against the falling sun.

Up springs the moon, but hot and red Kills the sad night with woe and dread; No gentle l.u.s.tre, but the gloom That heralds universal doom.

A cloud of dust and vapour mars The beauty of the evening stars, And wild and fearful is the sky As though the wreck of worlds were nigh.

Around our heads in boding flight Wheel hawk and vulture, crow and kite; And every bird of happy note Shrieks terror from his altered throat.

Sword, spear and shaft shall strew the plain Dyed red with torrents of the slain.

To-day the Vanar troops shall close Around the city of our foes."

Canto XXIV. The Spy's Return.

As s.h.i.+ne the heavens with autumn's moon Refulgent in the height of noon, So shone with light which Rama gave That army of the bold and brave, As from the sea it marched away In war's magnificent array, And earth was shaken by the beat And trampling of unnumbered feet.

Then to the giants' ears were borne, The mingled notes of drum and horn, And clash of tambours smote the sky, And shouting and the battle cry.

The sound of martial strains inspired Each chieftain, and his bosom fired: While giants from their walls replied, And answering shouts the foe defied, Then Rama looked on Lanka where Bright banners floated in the air, And, pierced with anguish at the view, His loving thoughts to Sita flew.

"There, prisoned by the giant, lies My lady of the tender eyes, Like Rohi?i the queen of stars O'erpowered by the fiery Mars."

Then turned he to his brother chief And cried in agony of grief: "See on the hill, divinely planned And built by Visvakarma's hand, The towers and domes of Lanka rise In peerless beauty to the skies.

Bright from afar the city s.h.i.+nes With gleam of palaces and shrines, Like pale clouds through the region spread By Vish?u's self inhabited.

Fair gardens grow, and woods between The stately domes are fresh and green, Where trees their bloom and fruit display, And sweet birds sing on every spray.

Each bird is mad with joy, and bees Sing labouring in the bloomy trees On branches by the breezes bowed, Where the gay Kol's voice is loud."

This said, he ranged with warlike art Each body of the host apart.

"There in the centre," Rama cried, "Be Angad's place by Nila's side.

Let Rishabh of impetuous might Be lord and leader on the right, And Gandhamadan, next in rank, Be captain of the farther flank.

Lakshma? and I the hosts will lead, And Jambavan of ursine breed, With bold Sushe? unused to fear, And Vegadarsi, guide the rear."

Thus Rama spoke: the chiefs obeyed; And all the Vanar hosts arrayed Showed awful as the autumn sky When clouds embattled form on high.

Their arms were mighty trees o'erthrown, And ma.s.sy blocks of mountain stone.

One hope in every warlike breast, One firm resolve, they onward pressed, To die in fight or batter down The walls and towers of Lanka's town.

Those marshalled legions Rama eyed, And thus to King Sugriva cried: "Now, Monarch, ere the hosts proceed, Let Suka, Rava?'s spy, be freed."

He spoke: the Vanar gave consent And loosed him from imprisonment: And Suka, trembling and afraid, His homeward way to Rava? made.

Loud laughed the lord of Lanka's isle: "Where hast thou stayed this weary while?

Why is thy plumage marred, and why Do twisted cords thy pinions tie?

Say, comest thou in evil plight The victim of the Vanars' spite?"