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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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III. The Death <strong>of</strong> the King - 49<br />

Ever true and righteous Sita, follow still my godlike son,<br />

Like a God to thee is <strong>Rama</strong> in the woods or on the throne!”<br />

“I shall do my duty, mother,” said the wife with wifely pride,<br />

“Like a God to me is <strong>Rama</strong>, Sita shall not leave his side,<br />

From the Moon will part his lustre ere I part from wedded lord,<br />

Ere from faithful wife’s devotion falter in my deed or word,<br />

For the stringless lute is silent, idle is the wheel-less car,<br />

And no wife the loveless consort, inauspicious is her star!<br />

Small the measure <strong>of</strong> affection which the sire and brother prove,<br />

Measureless to wedded woman is her lord and husband’s love,<br />

True to Law and true to Scriptures, true to woman’s plighted word,<br />

Can I ever be, my mother, faithless, loveless to my lord?”<br />

Tears <strong>of</strong> joy and mingled sorrow filled the Queen Kausalya’s eye,<br />

As she marked the faithful Sita true in heart, in virtue high,<br />

And she wept the tears <strong>of</strong> sadness when with sweet obeisance due,<br />

Spake with hands in meekness folded <strong>Rama</strong> ever good and true:<br />

“Sorrow not, my loving mother, trust in virtue’s changeless beam,<br />

Swift will fly the years <strong>of</strong> exile like a brief and transient dream,<br />

Girt by faithful friends and forces, blest by righteous Gods above,<br />

Thou shalt see thy son returning to thy bosom and thy love!”<br />

[46] Unto all the royal ladies <strong>Rama</strong> his obeisance paid,<br />

For his failings unremembered, blessings and forgiveness prayed,<br />

And his words were s<strong>of</strong>t and gentle, and they wept to see him go,<br />

Like the piercing cry <strong>of</strong> curlew rose the piercing voice <strong>of</strong> woe,<br />

And in halls where drum and tabor rose in joy and regal pride,<br />

Voice <strong>of</strong> grief and lamentation sounded far and sounded wide!<br />

Then the true and faithful Lakshman parted from each weeping dame,<br />

And to sorrowing Queen Sumitra with his due obeisance came,<br />

And he bowed to Queen Sumitra and his mother kissed his head,<br />

Stilled her anguish-laden bosom and in trembling accents said:

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