Reading section 57

As on their way the Vánars went To rouse each distant armament, They chanced that wondrous tree to view That on Himálaya’s summit grew. Of old upon that sacred height Was wrought Maheśvar’s(648) glorious rite, Which every God in heaven beheld, And his glad heart with triumph swelled. There from pure seed at random sown Bright plants with luscious fruit had grown, And, sweet as Amrit to the taste, The summit of the mountain graced. Who once should eat the virtuous fruit That sprang from so divine a root, One whole revolving moon should be From every pang of hunger free. The Vánars culled the fruit they found Ripe on the sacrificial ground With rare celestial odours sweet, To lay them at Sugríva’s feet. Those noble envoys scoured the land To summon every Vánar band Then swiftly homeward at the head Of countless armaments they sped. They gathered by Kishkindhá’s wall. They thronged Sugríva’s palace hall, And, richly laden, bare within That fruit of heavenly origin. Their gifts before their king they spread, And thus in tones of triumph said:

“Through every land our way we took To visit hill and wood and brook, And all thy hosts from east to west Flock hither at their lord’s behest.” Sugríva with delighted look The present of his envoys took, Then bade them go, with gracious speech Rewarding and dismissing each.

Canto XXXVIII. Sugríva’s Departure.

Thus all the princely Vánars, true To their appointed tasks, withdrew. Sugríva deemed already done The work he planned for Raghu’s son. Then Lakshmaṇ gently spoke and cheered Sugríva for his valour feared: “Now, chieftain, if thy will be so, Forth from Kishkindhá let us go.” Sugríva’s heart swelled high with pride As to the prince he thus replied: “Come, speed we forth without delay: ’Tis mine thy mandate to obey.” Sugríva bade the dames adieu, And Tárá and the rest withdrew. Then at their chieftain’s summons came The Vánars first in rank and fame, A trusty brave and reverent band, Meet e’en before a queen to stand. They at his call made haste to bring The litter of the glorious king. “Mount, O my friend.” Sugríva cried, And straight Sumitrá’s son complied. Then took by Lakshmaṇ’s side his place The sovereign of the woodland race, Upraised by Vánars, fleet and strong, Who bore the glittering load along. On high above his royal head A paly canopy was spread, And chouries white in many a hand The forehead of the monarch fanned, And shell and drum and song and shout Pealed round him as the king passed out. About the monarch went a throng Of Vánar warriors brave and strong, As onward to the mountain shade Where Ráma dwelt his way he made. Soon as the lovely spot he viewed Where Ráma lived in solitude, The Vánar monarch, far-renowed, With Lakshmaṇ, lightly stepped to ground, And to the son of Raghu went Joining his raised hands reverent. As their great leader raised his hands, So suppliant stood the Vánar bands. Well pleased the son of Raghu saw Those legions, hushed in reverent awe, Stand silent like the tranquil floods That raise their hands of lotus buds. But Ráma, when the king, to greet His friend, had bowed him at his feet, Raised him who ruled the Vánar race, And held him in a close embrace: Then, when his arms he had unknit, Besought him by his side to sit, And thus with gentle words the best Of men the Vánar king addressed:

“The prince who well his days divides, And knows aright the times and tides To follow duty, joy, or gain, He, only he, deserves to reign. But he who wealth and virtue leaves, And every hour to pleasure cleaves, Falls from his bliss like him who wakes From slumber on a branch that breaks. True king is he who smites his foes, And favour to his servants shows, And of that fruit makes timely use Which virtue, wealth, and joy produce. The hour is come that bids thee rise To aid me in my enterprise. Then call thy nobles to debate, And with their help deliberate.”

“Lost was my power,” the king replied, “All strength had fled, all hope had died. The Vánars owned another lord, But by thy grace was all restored. All this, O conqueror of the foe, To thee and Lakshmaṇ’s aid I owe. And his should be the villain’s shame Who durst deny the sacred claim. These Vánar chiefs of noblest birth Have at my bidding roamed the earth, And brought from distant regions all Our legions at their monarch’s call: Fierce bears with monkey troops combined, And apes of every varied kind, Terrific in their forms, who dwell In grove and wood and bosky dell: The bright Gandharvas’ brood, the seed Of Gods,(649) they change their shapes at need. Each with his legions in array, Hither, O Prince, they make their way. They come: and tens of millions swell To numbers that no tongue may tell.(650) For thee their armies will unite With chiefs, Mahendra’s peers in might. From Meru and from Vindhya’s chain They come like clouds that bring the rain. These round thee to the war will go, To smite to earth thy demon foe; Will slay the Rákshas and restore Thy consort when the fight is o’er.”

Canto XXXIX. The Vánar Host.

Then Ráma, best of all who guide Their steps by duty, thus replied: “What marvel if Lord Indra send The kindly rain, O faithful friend? If, thousand-rayed, the God of Day Drive every darksome cloud away? Or, rising high, the Lord of Night Flood the broad heaven with silver light? What marvel, King, that one like thee The glory of his friends should be? No marvel, O my lord, that thou Hast shown thy noble nature now. Thy heart, Sugríva, well I know: Naught from thy lips but truth may flow, With thee for friend and champion all My foes beneath my arm will fall. The Rákshas, when my queen he stole, Brought sure destruction on his soul, Like Anuhláda(651) who beguiled Queen Śachí called Puloma’s child. Yes, near, Sugríva, is the day When I my demon foe shall slay, As conquering Indra in his ire Slew Queen Paulomí’s haughty sire.”(652) He ceased: thick clouds of dust rose high To every quarter of the sky: The very sun grew faint and pale Behind the darkly-gathering veil. The mighty clouds that hung o’erhead From east to west thick darkness spread, And earth to her foundations shook With hill and forest, lake and brook. Then hidden was the ground beneath Fierce warriors armed with fearful teeth, Hosts numberless, each lord in size A match for him who rules the skies: From many a sea and distant hill, From rock and river, lake and rill. Some like the morning sun were bright, Some, like the moon, were silver white: These green as lotus fibres, those White-coated from their native snows.(653) Then Śatabali came in view Girt by a countless retinue. Like some gold mountain high in air Tárá’s illustrious sire(654) was there. There Rumá‘s father,(655) far-renowned, With tens of thousands ranged around. There, tinted like the tender green Of lotus filaments, was seen, Compassed by countless legions, one Whose face was as the morning sun, Hanúmán’s father good and great, Kesarí,(656) wisest in debate. There the proud king Gaváksha, feared For his strong warrior arm, appeared. There Dhúmra, mighty lord, the dread Of foes, his ursine legions led. There Panas, first for warlike fame, With twenty million warriors came. There glorious Níla, dark of hue, Arrayed his countless troops in view. There moved lord Gavaya brave and bold, Resplendent like a hill of gold, And near him Darímukha stood With millions from the hill and wood And Dwivid famed for strength and speed, And Mamda, both of Aśvin seed. There Gaja, strong and glorious, led The countless troops around him spread, And Jámbaván(657) the king whose sway The bears delighted to obey, With swarming myriads onward pressed True to his lord Sugríva’s hest; And princely Ruman, dear to fame, Led millions whom no hosts could tame, All these and many a chief beside(658) Came onward fierce in warlike pride. They covered all the plain, and still Pressed forward over wood and hill. In rows for many a league around They rested on the grassy ground; Or to Sugríva made their way, Like clouds about the Lord of Day, And to the king their proud heads bent In power and might preeminent. Sugríva then to Ráma sped, And raised his reverent hands, and said That every chief from coast to coast Was present with his warrior host.

Canto XL. The Army Of The East.

With practised eye the king reviewed The Vánars’ countless multitude, And, joying that his hest was done, Thus spake to Raghu’s mighty son: “See, all the Vánar hosts who fear My sovereign might are gathered here. Chiefs strong as Indra’s self, who speed Wher’er they list, these armies lead. Fierce and terrific to the view As Daityas or the Dánav(659) crew, Famed in all lands for souls afire With lofty thoughts, they never tire, O’er hill and vale they wander free, And islets of the distant sea. And these gathered myriads, all Will serve thee, Ráma, at thy call. Whate’er thy heart advises, say: Thy mandates will the host obey.”

Then answered Ráma, as he pressed The Vánar monarch to his breast: “O search for my lost Sítá, strive To find her if she still survive: And in thy wondrous wisdom trace Fierce Rávaṇ to his dwelling-place. And when by toil and search we know Where Sítá lies and where the foe, With thee, dear friend, will I devise Fit means to end the enterprise. Not mine, not Lakshmaṇ’s is the power To guide us in the doubtful hour. Thou, sovereign of the Vánars, thou Must be our hope and leader now.”

He ceased: at King Sugríva’s call Near came a Vánar strong and tall. Huge as a towering mountain, loud As some tremendous thunder cloud, A prince who warlike legions led: To him his sovereign turned and said: “Go, take ten thousand(660) of our race Well trained in lore of time and place, And search the eastern region; through Groves, woods, and hills thy way pursue. There seek for Sítá, trace the spot Where Rávaṇ hides, and weary not. Search for the captive in the caves Of mountains, and by woods and waves. To Sarjú,(661) Kauśikí,(662) repair, Bhagírath’s daughter(663) fresh and fair. Search mighty Yamun’s(664) peak, explore Swift Yamuná’s(665) delightful shore, Sarasvati(666) and Sindhu’s(667) tide, And rapid Śona’s(668) pebbly side. Then roam afar by Mahí’s(669) bed Where Kálamahí’s groves are spread. Go where the silken tissue shines, Go to the land of silver mines.(670) Visit each isle and mountain steep And city circled by the deep, And distant villages that high About the peaks of Mandar lie. Speed over Yavadwipa’s land,(671) And see Mount Śiśir(672) proudly stand Uplifting to the skies his head By Gods and Dánavs visited. Search each ravine and mountain pass, Each tangled thicket deep in grass. Search every cave with utmost care If haply Ráma’s queen be there. Then pass beyond the sounding sea Where heavenly beings wander free, And Śona’s(673) waters swift and strong With ruddy billows foam along. Search where his shelving banks descend, Search where the hanging woods extend. Try if the pathless thickets screen The robber and the captive queen. Search where the torrent floods that rend The mountain to the plains descend: Search dark abysses where they rave, Search mountain slope and wood and cave Then on with rapid feet and gain The inlands of the fearful main Where, tortured by the tempest’s lash, Against rude rocks the billows dash: An ocean like a sable cloud, Whose margent monstrous serpents crowd: An ocean rising with a roar To beat upon an iron shore. On, onward still! your feet shall tread Shores of the sea whose waves are red, Where spreading wide your eyes shall see The guilt-tormenting cotton tree(674) And the wild spot where Garuḍ(675) dwells Which gems adorn and ocean shells, High as Kailása, nobly decked, Wrought by the heavenly architect.(676) Huge giants named Mandehas(677) there In each foul shape they love to wear, Numbing the soul with terror’s chill, Hang from the summit of the hill. When darts the sun his earliest beam They plunge them in the ocean stream, New vigour from his rays obtain, And hang upon the rocks again. Speed onward still: your steps shall be At length beside the Milky Sea Whose every ripple as it curls Gleams glorious with its wealth of pearls. Amid that sea like pale clouds spread The white Mount Rishabh(678) rears his head. About the mountain’s glorious waist Woods redolent of bloom are braced. A lake where lotuses unfold Their silver buds with threads of gold, Sudarśan ever bright and fair Where white swans sport, lies gleaming there, The wandering Kinnar’s(679) dear resort, Where heavenly nymphs and Yakshas(680) sport. On! leave the Milky Sea behind: Another flood your search shall find, A waste of waters, wild and drear, That chills each living heart with fear. There see the horse’s awful head, Wrath-born, that flames in Ocean’s bed.(681) There rises up a fearful cry From the sea things that move thereby, When, helpless, powerless for flight, They gaze upon the horrid sight. Past to the

northern shore, and then Beyond the flood three leagues and ten Your wondering glances will behold Mount Játarúpa(682) bright with gold. There like the young moon pale of hue The monstrous serpent(683) will ye view, The earth’s supporter, whose bright eyes Resemble lotus leaves in size. He rests upon the mountain’s brow, And all the Gods before him bow. Ananta with a thousand heads His length in robes of azure spreads. A triple-headed palm of gold— Meet standard for the lofty-souled— Springs towering from the mountain’s crest Beneath whose shade he loves to rest, So that in eastern realms each God May use it as a measuring-rod. Beyond, with burning gold aglow, The eastern steep his peaks will show, Which in unrivalled glory rise A hundred leagues to pierce the skies, And all the neighbouring air is bright With golden trees that clothe the height. A lofty peak uprises there Ten leagues in height and one league square Saumanas, wrought of glistering gold, Ne’er to be loosened from its hold. There his first step Lord Vishṇu placed When through the universe he paced, And with his second lightly pressed The loftiest peak of Meru’s crest. When north of Jambudwíp(684) the sun A portion of his course has run, And hangs above this mountain height, Then creatures see the genial light. Vaikhánases,(685) saints far renowned, And Bálakhilyas(686) love the ground Where in their glory half divine, Touched by the morning glow, they shine The light that flashes from that steep Illumines all Sudarśandwíp,(687) And on each creature, as it glows, The sight and strength of life bestows. Search well that mountain’s woody side If Rávaṇ there his captive hide. The rising sun, the golden hill The air with growing splendours fill, Till flashes from the east the red Of morning with the light they shed. This, where the sun begins his state, Is earth and heaven’s most eastern gate. Through all the mountain forest seek By waterfall and cave and peak. Search every nook and bosky dell, If Rávaṇ there with Sítá dwell. There, Vánars, there your steps must stay: No farther eastward can ye stray. Beyond no sun, no moon gives light, But all is sunk in endless night. Thus far, O Vánar lords, may you O’er sea and land your search pursue. But wild and dark and known to none Is the drear space beyond the sun. That mountain whence the sun ascends Your long and weary journey ends.(688) Now go, and in a month return, And let success my praises earn. He who beyond tho month shall stay Will with his life the forfeit pay.”

Canto XLI. The Army Of The South.

He gathered next a chosen band For service in the southern land. He summoned Níla son of Fire, And, offspring of the eternal Sire, Jámbaván bold and strong and tall, And Hanumán, the best of all, And many a valiant lord beside,(689) With Angad for their chief and guide. “Go forth,” he cried, “with all this host Exploring to the southern coast: The thousand peaks that Vindhya shows Where every tree and creeper grows: Where Narmadá’s(690) sweet waters run, And serpents bask them in the sun: Where Krishṇaveṇí’s(691) currents flee, And sparkles fair Godávarí.(692) Through Mekhal(693) pass and Utkal’s(694) land: Go where Daśárṇa’s(695) cities stand. Avantí(696) seek, of high renown, And Abravanti’s(697) glorious town. Search every hill and brook and cave Where Daṇḍak’s woods their branches wave Ayomukh’s(698) woody hill explore Whose sides are bright with richest ore, Lifting his glorious head on high From bloomy groves that round him lie. Search well his forests where the breeze Blows fragrant from the sandal trees. Then will you see Káverí’s(699) stream Whose pleasant waters glance and gleam, And to the lovely banks entice The sportive maids of Paradise. High on the top of Malaya’s(700) hill, In holy musing, calm and still, Sits, radiant as the Lord of Light, Agastya,(701) noblest anchorite. Soon as that lofty-thoughted lord His high permission shall accord, Pass Támraparṇí’s(702) flood whose isles Are loved by basking crocodiles. The sandal woods that fringe her side Those islets and her waters hide; While, like an amorous matron, she Speeds to her own dear lord the sea. Thence hasting on your way behold The Páṇḍyas’(703) gates of pearl and gold. Then, with your task maturely planned, On ocean’s shore your feet will stand. Where, by Agastya’s high decree, Mahendra,(704) planted in the sea, With tinted peaks against the tide Rises in solitary pride, And glorious in his golden glow Spurns back the waves that beat below. Fair mountain, bright with creepers’ bloom And every tint that trees assume, Where Yaksha, God, and heavenly maid Meet wandering in the lovely shade, At changing moon and solemn tide By Indra’s presence glorified. One hundred leagues in fair extent An island(705) fronts the continent: No man may tread its glittering shore, With utmost heed that isle explore, For the fair country owns the sway Of Rávaṇ whom we burn to slay. A mighty monster stands to keep The passage of the southern deep. Lifting her awful arms on high She grasps e’en shadows as they fly. Speed through that isle, and onward still Where in mid sea the Flowery Hill(706) Raises on high his bloomy head By saints and angels visited. There, with a hundred gleaming peaks Bright as the sun, the sky he seeks, One glorious peak the Lord of Day Gilds ever with his loving ray; Thereon ne’er yet the glances fell Of thankless wretch or infidel. Bow to that hill in reverence due, And then once more your search pursue. Beyond that glorious mountain hie, And Súryaván,(707) proud hill is nigh. Your rapid course yet farther bend Where Vaidyut’s(708) airy peaks ascend. There trees of noblest sort, profuse Of wealth, their kindly gifts produce. Their precious fruits, O Vánars, taste, The honey sip, and onward haste. Next will ye see Mount Kunjar rise, Who cheers with beauty hearts and eyes. There is Agastya’s(709) mansion, decked By heaven’s all moulding architect. Near Bhogavatí(710) stands, the place Where dwell the hosts of serpent race: A broad-wayed city, walled and

barred, Which watchful legions keep and guard, The fiercest of the serpent youth, Each awful for his venomed tooth: And throned in his imperial hall Is Vásuki(711) who rules them all. Explore the serpent city well, Search town and tower and citadel, And scan each field and wood that lies Around it, with your watchful eyes. Beyond that spot your way pursue: A noble mountain shall ye view, Named Rishabh, like a mighty bull, With gems made bright and beautiful. All trees of sandal flourish there Of heavenly fragrance, rich and rare. But, though they tempt your longing eyes, Avoid to touch them, and be wise. For Rohitas, a guardian band Of fierce Gandharvas, round them stand, Who five bright sovereign lords(712) obey, In glory like the God of Day. Here by good deeds a home is won With shapes like fire, the moon, the sun. Here they who merit heaven by worth Dwell on the confines of the earth. There stay: beyond it, dark and drear, Lies the departed spirits’ sphere, And, girt with darkness, far from bliss, Is Yáma’s sad metropolis.(713) So far, my lords, o’er land and sea Your destined course is plain and free. Beyond your steps you may not set, Where living thing ne’er journeyed yet. With utmost care these realms survey, And all you meet upon the way. And, when the lady’s course is traced, Back to your king, O Vánars, haste. And he who tells me he has seen. After long search, the Maithil queen, Shall gain a noble guerdon: he In power and bliss shall equal me. Dear as my very life, above His fellows in his master’s love; I call him, yea though stained with crime. My kinsman from that happy time.”

Canto XLII. The Army Of The West.

Then to Susheṇ Sugríva bent, And thus addressed him reverent: “Two hundred thousand of our best With thee, my lord, shall seek the west. Explore Suráshṭra’s(714)] distant plain, Explore Váhlíka’s(715) wild domain, And all the pleasant brooks that flee Through mountains to the western sea. Search clustering groves on mountain heights, And woods the home of anchorites. Search where the breezy hills are high, Search where the desert regions lie. Search all the western land beset With woody mountains like a net. The country‘s farthest limit reach, And stand upon the ocean beach. There wander through the groves of palm Where the soft air is full of balm. Through grassy dell and dark ravine Seek Rávaṇ and the Maithil queen. Go visit Somagiri’s(716) steep Where Sindhu(717) mingles with the deep. There lions, borne on swift wings, roam The levels of their mountain home, And elephants and monsters bear, Caught from the ocean, to their lair. You Vánars, changing forms at will, With rapid search must scour the hill, And his sky-kissing peak of gold Where loveliest trees their blooms unfold. There golden-peaked, ablaze with light, Uprises Páriyátra’s(718) height Where wild Gandharvas, fierce and fell, In bands of countless myriads dwell. Pluck ye no fruit within the wood; Beware the impious neighbourhood, Where, very mighty, strong, and hard To overcome, the fruit they guard. Yet search for Janak’s daughter still, For Vánars there need fear no ill. Near, bright as turkis, Vajra(719) named, There stands a hill of diamond framed. Soaring a hundred leagues in pride, With trees and creepers glorified. Search there each cave and dark abyss By waterfall and precipice. Far in that sea the wild waves beat On Chakraván’s(720) firm-rooted feet. Where the great discus,(721) thousand rayed, By Vísvakarmá’s(722) art was made. When Panchajan(723) the fiend was slain. And Hayagríva,(724) fierce in vain, Thence taking shell and discus went Lord Vishṇu, God preëminent. On! sixty thousand hills of gold With wondering eyes shall ye behold, Where in his glory every one Is brilliant as the morning sun. Full in the midst King Meru,(725) best Of mountains, lifts his lofty crest, On whom of yore, as all have heard, The sun well-pleased this boon conferred: “On thee, O King, on thee and thine Light, day and night, shall ever shine. Gandharvas, Gods who love thee well And on thy sacred summits dwell, Undimmed in lustre, bright and fair, The golden sheen shall ever share.” The Viśvas,(726) Vasus,(727) they who ride The tempest,(728) every God beside, Draw nigh to Meru’s lofty crest When evening darkens in the west, And to the parting Lord of Day The homage of their worship pay, Ere yet a while, unseen of all, Behind Mount Asta’s(729) peaks he fall. Wrought by the heavenly artist’s care A glorious palace glitters there, And round about it sweet birds sing Where the gay trees are blossoming: The home of Varuṇ(730) high-souled lord, Wrist-girded with his deadly cord.(731) With ten tall stems, a palm between Meru and Asta’s hill is seen: Pure silver from the base it springs, And far and wide its lustre flings. Seek Rávaṇ and the dame by brook, In pathless glen, in leafy nook On Meru’s crest a hermit lives Bright with the light that penance gives: Sávarṇi(732) is he named, renowned As Brahmá’s peer, with glory crowned. There bowing down in reverence speak And ask him of the dame you seek. Thus far the splendid Lord of Day Pursues through heaven his ceaseless way, Shedding on