सर्ग ६८

Thus faithful Lakshmaṇ strove to cheer The prince with counsel wise and clear. Who, prompt to seize the pith of all, Let not that wisdom idly fall. With vigorous effort he restrained The passion in his breast that reigned, And leaning on his bow for rest His brother Lakshmaṇ thus addressed: “How shall we labour now, reflect; Whither again our search direct? Brother, what plan canst thou devise To bring her to these longing eyes?”

To him by toil and sorrow tried The prudent Lakshmaṇ thus replied: “Come, though our labour yet be vain, And search through Janasthán again,— A realm where giant foes abound, And trees and creepers hide the ground. For there are caverns deep and dread, By deer and wild birds tenanted, And hills with many a dark abyss, Grotto and rock and precipice. There bright Gandharvas love to dwell, And Kinnars in each bosky dell. With me thy eager search to aid Be every hill and cave surveyed. Great chiefs like thee, the best of men, Endowed with sense and piercing ken, Though tried by trouble never fail, Like rooted hills that mock the gale.”

Then Ráma, pierced by anger’s sting, Laid a keen arrow on his string, And by the faithful Lakshmaṇ’s side Roamed through the forest far and wide. Jaṭáyus there with blood-drops dyed, Lying upon the ground he spied, Huge as a mountain’s shattered crest, Mid all the birds of air the best. In wrath the mighty bird he eyed, And thus the chief to Lakshmaṇ cried:

“Ah me, these signs the truth betray; My darling was the vulture’s prey. Some demon in the bird’s disguise Roams through the wood that round us lies. On large-eyed Sítá he has fed, And rests him now with wings outspread. But my keen shafts whose flight is true, Shall pierce the ravenous monster through.”

An arrow on the string he laid, And rushing near the bird surveyed, While earth to ocean’s distant side Trembled beneath his furious stride. With blood and froth on neck and beak The dying bird essayed to speak, And with a piteous voice, distressed, Thus Daśaratha’s son addressed:

“She whom like some sweet herb of grace Thou seekest in this lonely place, Fair lady, is fierce Rávaṇ’s prey, Who took, beside, my life away. Lakshmaṇ and thou had parted hence And left the dame without defence. I saw her swiftly borne away By Rávaṇ’s might which none could stay. I hurried to the lady’s aid, I crushed his car and royal shade, And putting forth my warlike might Hurled Rávaṇ to the earth in fight. Here, Ráma, lies his broken bow, Here lie the arrows of the foe. There on the ground before thee are The fragments of his battle car. There bleeds the driver whom my wings Beat down with ceaseless buffetings. When toil my aged strength subdued, His sword my weary pinions hewed. Then lifting up the dame he bare His captive through the fields of air. Thy vengeful blows from me restrain, Already by the giant slain.”

When Ráma heard the vulture tell The tale that proved his love so well, His bow upon the ground he placed, And tenderly the bird embraced: Then to the earth he fell o’erpowered, And burning tears both brothers showered, For double pain and anguish pressed Upon the patient hero’s breast. The solitary bird he eyed Who in the lone wood gasped and sighed, And as again his anguish woke Thus Ráma to his brother spoke:

“Expelled from power the woods I tread, My spouse is lost, the bird is dead. A fate so sad, I ween, would tame The vigour of the glorious flame. If I to cool my fever tried To cross the deep from side to side, The sea,—so hard my fate,—would dry His waters as my feet came nigh. In all this world there lives not one So cursed as I beneath the sun; So strong a net of misery cast Around me holds the captive fast, Best of all birds that play the wing, Loved, honoured by our sire the king, The vulture, in my fate enwound, Lies bleeding, dying on the ground.”

Then Ráma and his brother stirred By pity mourned the royal bird, And, as their hands his limbs caressed, Affection for a sire expressed. And Ráma to his bosom strained The bird with mangled wings distained, With crimson blood-drops dyed. He fell, and shedding many a tear, “Where is my spouse than life more dear? Where is my love?” he cried.