सर्ग ५०

So through the wide and fair extent Of Kośala the hero went. Then toward Ayodhyá back he gazed, And cried, with suppliant hands upraised: “Farewell, dear city, first in place, Protected by Kakutstha’s race! And Gods, who in thy temples dwell, And keep thine ancient citadel! I from his debt my sire will free, Thy well-loved towers again will see, And, coming from my wild retreat, My mother and my father meet.”

Then burning grief inflamed his eye, As his right arm he raised on high, And, while hot tears his cheek bedewed, Addressed the mournful multitude: “By love and tender pity moved, Your love for me you well have proved; Now turn again with joy, and win Success in all your hands begin.”

Before the high souled chief they bent, With circling steps around him went, And then with bitter wailing, they Departed each his several way. Like the great sun engulfed by night, The hero sped beyond their sight, While still the people mourned his fate And wept aloud disconsolate. The car-borne chieftain passed the bound Of Kośala’s delightful ground, Where grain and riches bless the land, And people give with liberal hand: A lovely realm unvexed by fear, Where countless shrines and stakes(323) appear: Where mango-groves and gardens grow, And streams of pleasant water flow: Where dwells content a well-fed race, And countless kine the meadows grace: Filled with the voice of praise and prayer: Each hamlet worth a monarch’s care. Before him three-pathed Gangá rolled Her heavenly waters bright and cold; O’er her pure breast no weeds were spread, Her banks were hermit-visited. The car-borne hero saw the tide That ran with eddies multiplied, And thus the charioteer addressed: “Here on the bank to-day we rest. Not distant from the river, see! There grows a lofty Ingudí With blossoms thick on every spray: There rest we, charioteer, to-day. I on the queen of floods will gaze, Whose holy stream has highest praise, Where deer, and bird, and glittering snake, God, Daitya, bard their pastime take.”

Sumantra, Lakshmaṇ gave assent, And with the steeds they thither went. When Ráma reached the lovely tree, With Sítá and with Lakshmaṇ, he Alighted from the car: with speed Sumantra loosed each weary steed. And, hand to hand in reverence laid, Stood near to Ráma in the shade. Ráma’s dear friend, renowned by fame, Who of Nisháda lineage came, Guha, the mighty chief, adored Through all the land as sovereign lord, Soon as he heard that prince renowned Was resting on Nisháda ground, Begirt by counsellor and peer And many an honoured friend drew near. Soon as the monarch came in view, Ráma and Lakshmaṇ toward him flew. Then Guha, at the sight distressed, His arms around the hero pressed, Laid both his hands upon his head Bowed to those lotus feet, and said: “O Ráma, make thy wishes known, And be this kingdom as thine own. Who, mighty-armed, will ever see A guest so dear as thou to me?”

He placed before him dainty fare Of every flavour, rich and rare, Brought forth the gift for honoured guest, And thus again the chief addressed: “Welcome, dear Prince, whose arms are strong; These lands and all to thee belong. Thy servants we, our lord art thou; Begin, good king, thine empire now. See, various food before thee placed, And cups to drink and sweets to taste For thee soft beds are hither borne, And for thy horses grass and corn.”

To Guha as he pressed and prayed, Thus Raghu’s son his answer made: “’Twas aye thy care my heart to please With honour, love, and courtesies, And friendship brings thee now to greet Thy guest thus humbly on thy feet.”

Again the hero spake, as round The king his shapely arms he wound: “Guha, I see that all is well With thee and those who with thee dwell; That health and bliss and wealth attend Thy realm, thyself, and every friend. But all these friendly gifts of thine, Bound to refuse, I must decline. Grass, bark, and hide my only wear, And woodland roots and fruit my fare, On duty all my heart is set; I seek the woods, an anchoret. A little grass and corn to feed The horses—this is all I need. So by this favour, King, alone Shall honour due to me be shown. For these good steeds who brought me here Are to my sire supremely dear; And kind attention paid to these Will honour me and highly please.”

Then Guha quickly bade his train Give water to the steeds, and grain. And Ráma, ere the night grew dark, Paid evening rites in dress of bark, And tasted water, on the strand, Drawn from the stream by Lakshmaṇ’s hand. And Lakshmaṇ with observance meet Bathed his beloved brother’s feet, Who rested with his Maithil spouse: Then sat him down ’neath distant boughs. And Guha with his bow sat near To Lakshmaṇ and the charioteer, And with the prince conversing kept His faithful watch while Ráma slept. As Daśaratha’s glorious heir, Of lofty soul and wisdom rare, Reclining with his Sítá there Beside the river lay— He who no troubles e’er had seen, Whose life a life of bliss had been— That night beneath the branches green Passed pleasantly away.