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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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VI. Sita Lost - 95<br />

Art thou Sri or radiant Gauri, maid <strong>of</strong> Fortune or <strong>of</strong> Fame,<br />

Nymph <strong>of</strong> Love or sweet Fruition, what may be thy sacred name?<br />

On thy lips <strong>of</strong> ruddy coral teeth <strong>of</strong> tender jasmine shine,<br />

In thy eyes <strong>of</strong> limpid lustre dwells a light <strong>of</strong> love divine,<br />

Tall and slender, s<strong>of</strong>tly rounded, are thy limbs <strong>of</strong> beauty rare,<br />

Like the swelling fruit <strong>of</strong> tala heaves thy bosom sweetly fair!<br />

Smiling lips that tempt and ravish, lustre that thy dark eyes beam,<br />

Crush my heart, as rolling waters crush the margin <strong>of</strong> the stream,<br />

And thy wealth <strong>of</strong> waving tresses mantles o’er thy budding charms,<br />

And thy waist <strong>of</strong> slender beauty courts a lover’s circling arms!<br />

[98] Goddess or Gandharva maiden wears no brighter form or face,<br />

Woman seen by eyes <strong>of</strong> mortals owns not such transcendent grace,<br />

Wherefore then, in lonesome forest, nymph or maiden, make thy stay,<br />

Where the jungle creatures wander and the Rakshas hold their sway?<br />

Royal halls and stately mansions were for thee a meeter home,<br />

And thy steps should grace a palace, not in pathless forest roam,<br />

Blossoms rich, not thorn <strong>of</strong> jungle, decorate a lady’s bower,<br />

Silken robes, not sylvan garments, heighten Beauty’s potent power!<br />

Lady <strong>of</strong> the sylvan forest! other destiny is thine, –<br />

As a bride beloved and courted in thy bridal garments shine,<br />

Choose a loved and lordly suitor who shall wait on thee in pride,<br />

Choose a hero worth thy beauty, be a monarch’s queenly bride!<br />

Speak thy lineage, heaven-descended! who may be thy parents high,<br />

Rudras or the radiant Maruts, Vasus leaders <strong>of</strong> the sky,<br />

All unworthy is this forest for a nymph or heavenly maid,<br />

Beasts <strong>of</strong> prey infest the jungle, Rakshas haunt its gloomy shade,<br />

Lions dwell in lovely caverns, tuskers ford the silent lake,<br />

Monkeys sport on pendant branches, tigers steal beneath the brake,<br />

Wherefore then this dismal forest doth thy fairy face adorn,<br />

Who art thou and whence descended, nymph or maid or goddess-born?”

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