सर्ग ११९

The shrill cry pierced through Ráma’s ears And his sad eyes o’erflowed with tears, When lo, transported through the sky A glorious band of Gods was nigh. Ancestral shades,(1016) by men revered, In venerable state appeared, And he from whom all riches flow,(1017) And Yáma Lord who reigns below: King Indra, thousand-eyed, and he Who wields the sceptre of the sea.(1018) The God who shows the blazoned bull,(1019) And Brahmá Lord most bountiful By whose command the worlds were made All these on radiant cars conveyed, Brighter than sun-beams, sought the place Where stood the prince of Raghu’s race, And from their glittering seats the best Of blessed Gods the chief addressed:

“Couldst thou, the Lord of all, couldst thou, Creator of the worlds, allow Thy queen, thy spouse to brave the fire And give her body to the pyre? Dost thou not yet, supremely wise, Thy heavenly nature recognize?” They ceased: and Ráma thus began: “I deem myself a mortal man. Of old Ikshváku’s line, I spring From Daśaratha Kośal’s king.” He ceased: and Brahmá’s self replied: “O cast the idle thought aside. Thou art the Lord Náráyaṇ, thou The God to whom all creatures bow. Thou art the saviour God who wore Of old the semblance of a boar; Thou he whose discus overthrows All present, past and future foes; Thou Brahmá, That whose days extend Without beginning, growth or end; The God, who, bears the bow of horn, Whom four majestic arms adorn; Thou art the God who rules the sense And sways with gentle influence; Thou all-pervading Vishṇu Lord Who wears the ever-conquering sword; Thou art the Guide who leads aright, Thou Krishṇa of unequalled might. Thy hand, O Lord, the hills and plains, And earth with all her life sustains; Thou wilt appear in serpent form When sinks the earth in fire and storm. Queen Sítá of the lovely brows Is Lakshmí thy celestial spouse. To free the worlds from Rávaṇ thou Wouldst take the form thou wearest now. Rejoice: the mighty task is done: Rejoice, thou great and glorious one. The tyrant, slain, thy labours end: Triumphant now to heaven ascend. High bliss awaits the devotee Who clings in loving faith to thee, Who celebrates with solemn praise The Lord of ne’er beginning days. On earth below, in heaven above Great joy shall crown his faith and love. And he who loves the tale divine Which tells each glorious deed of thine Through life’s fair course shall never know The fierce assault of pain and woe.”(1020)