Rámáyan of Válmíki (World's Classics Series). Valmiki

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      “In all this world, I pray thee, who

      Is virtuous, heroic, true?

      Firm in his vows, of grateful mind,

      To every creature good and kind?

      Bounteous, and holy, just, and wise,

      Alone most fair to all men’s eyes?

      Devoid of envy, firm, and sage,

      Whose tranquil soul ne’er yields to rage?

      Whom, when his warrior wrath is high,

      Do Gods embattled fear and fly?

      Whose noble might and gentle skill

      The triple world can guard from ill?

      Who is the best of princes, he

      Who loves his people’s good to see?

      The store of bliss, the living mine

      Where brightest joys and virtues shine?

      Whose steps her choicest gifts attend?

      Who may with Sun and Moon compare,

      For thee, I ween, an easy task,

      To whom the power is given to know

      If such a man breathe here below.”

      Then Nárad, clear before whose eye

      Made ready answer: “Hermit, where

      Are graces found so high and rare?

      Yet listen, and my tongue shall tell

      In whom alone these virtues dwell.

      Known to the world by Ráma’s name:

      With soul subdued, a chief of might,

      In Scripture versed, in glory bright,

      His steps in virtue’s paths are bent,

      Obedient, pure, and eloquent.

      In each emprise he wins success,

      And dying foes his power confess.

      Tall and broad-shouldered, strong of limb,

      Fortune has set her mark on him.

      Graced with a conch-shell’s triple line,

      High destiny is clear impressed

      On massive jaw and ample chest,

      His mighty shafts he truly aims,

      And foemen in the battle tames.

      Deep in the muscle, scarcely shown,

      Embedded lies his collar-bone.

      His lordly steps are firm and free,

      All fairest graces join to deck

      His head, his brow, his stately neck,

      And limbs in fair proportion set:

      The manliest form e’er fashioned yet.

      Graced with each high imperial mark,

      His skin is soft and lustrous dark.

      Large are his eyes that sweetly shine

      With majesty almost divine.

      His plighted word he ne’er forgets;

      On erring sense a watch he sets.

      By nature wise, his teacher’s skill

      Has trained him to subdue his will.

      Good, resolute and pure, and strong,

      He guards mankind from scathe and wrong,

      And lends his aid, and ne’er in vain,

      The cause of justice to maintain.

      Well has he studied o’er and o’er

      Well trained in arts and versed in law;

      High-souled and meet for happy fate,

      Most tender and compassionate;

      The noblest of all lordly givers,

      Whom good men follow, as the rivers

      Follow the King of Floods, the sea:

      So liberal, so just is he.

      In every virtue he has part:

      Unfathomed like the mighty deep:

      The peer of Vishṇu’s power and might,

      Patient as Earth, but, roused to ire,

      Fierce as the world-destroying fire;

      And Justice self in human mould.

      With him, his best and eldest son,

      By all his princely virtues won

      His kingdom as the Regent Heir.

      But when Kaikeyí, youngest queen,

      With eyes of envious hate had seen

      The solemn pomp and regal state

      Prepared the prince to consecrate,

      She bade the hapless king bestow

      Two gifts he promised long ago,

      That Ráma to the woods should flee,

      And that her child the heir should be.

      By chains


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