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Ramayana, Epic of Rama, Prince of India

An Abbreviated Translation of the Indian Classic, the Ramayana by Romesh Chundar Dutt in 2,000 verses

An Abbreviated Translation of the Indian Classic, the Ramayana by Romesh Chundar Dutt in 2,000 verses

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X. The War in Ceylon - 146<br />

And a cry <strong>of</strong> pain and terror from the Raksha ranks arose,<br />

And a shout from joying Vanars as they smote their fleeing foes!<br />

Heavenly flowers in rain descended on the red and gory plain,<br />

And from unseen harps and timbrels rose a s<strong>of</strong>t celestial strain,<br />

And the ocean heaved in gladness, brighter shone the sunlit sky,<br />

S<strong>of</strong>t and cool the gentle zephyrs through the forest murmured by,<br />

Sweetest scent and fragrant odours wafted from celestial trees,<br />

Fell upon the earth and ocean, rode upon the laden breeze!<br />

Voice <strong>of</strong> blessing from the bright shy fell on Raghus’ valiant son, –<br />

“Champion <strong>of</strong> the true and righteous! now thy noble task is done!”<br />

XII. Mandodari’s Lament and the Funerals<br />

“Hast thou fallen,” wept in anguish Ravan’s first and eldest bride,<br />

Mandodari, slender-waisted, Queen <strong>of</strong> Lanka’s state and pride,<br />

“Hast thou fallen, king and consort, more than Gods in warlike might,<br />

Slain by man, whom bright Immortals feared to face in dubious fight?<br />

Not a man! – the Dark Destroyer came to thee in mortal form,<br />

Or the heaven-traversing VISHNU, INDRA ruler <strong>of</strong> the storm,<br />

[160] Gods <strong>of</strong> sky in shape <strong>of</strong> Vanars helped the dark and cruel deed,<br />

Girdling round the Discus-Wielder in the battle’s direst need!<br />

Well I knew, – when Khara, Dushan, were by <strong>Rama</strong>’s prowess slain,<br />

<strong>Rama</strong> was no earthly mortal, he who crossed the mighty main,<br />

Well I knew, – when with his army he invested Lanka’s gate,<br />

<strong>Rama</strong> was no earthly mortal but the messenger <strong>of</strong> Fate,<br />

And I prayed, – the faithful Sita might unto her consort go,<br />

For ’tis writ that nations perish for a righteous woman’s woe,<br />

But for impious lust <strong>of</strong> woman, – all forgetful <strong>of</strong> thy wife,<br />

Thou hast lost thy crown and kingdom, thou hast lost thy fated life!<br />

Woe to me! the sad remembrance haunts my tortured bosom still,<br />

Of our days on famed Kailasa or on Meru’s golden hill,

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