---

Скачать книгу

---

      The sixty thousand came to light.

      Prince Asamanj, brought up with care,

      Scourge of his foes, was made the heir.

      But liegemen’s boys he used to cast

      To Sarjú‘s waves that hurried past,

      Laughing the while in cruel glee

      Their dying agonies to see.

      This wicked prince who aye withstood

      The counsel of the wise and good,

      Who plagued the people in his hate,

      His father banished from the state.

      His son, kind-spoken, brave, and tall,

      Was Anśumán, beloved of all.

      Long years flew by. The king decreed

      To slay a sacrificial steed.

      Consulting with his priestly band

      He vowed the rite his soul had planned,

      And, Veda skilled, by their advice

      Made ready for the sacrifice.

1 Garuḍa.

2 Ikshváku, the name of a king of Ayodhyá who is regarded as the founder of the Solar race, means also a gourd. Hence, perhaps, the myth.

      Canto 40. The Cleaving Of The Earth.

      The hermit ceased: the tale was done:

      Then in a transport Raghu’s son

      Again addressed the ancient sire

      Resplendent as a burning fire:

      “O holy man, I fain would hear

      The tale repeated full and clear

      How he from whom my sires descend

      Brought the great rite to happy end.”

      The hermit answered with a smile:

      “Then listen, son of Raghu, while

      My legendary tale proceeds

      To tell of high-souled Sagar’s deeds.

      Within the spacious plain that lies

      From where Himálaya’s heights arise

      To where proud Vindhya’s rival chain

      Looks down upon the subject plain —

A land the best for rites declared1—

      His sacrifice the king prepared.

      And Anśumán the prince — for so

      Sagar advised — with ready bow

      Was borne upon a mighty car

      To watch the steed who roamed afar.

      But Indra, monarch of the skies,

      Veiling his form in demon guise,

      Came down upon the appointed day

      And drove the victim horse away.

      Reft of the steed the priests, distressed,

      The master of the rite addressed:

      “Upon the sacred day by force

      A robber takes the victim horse.

      Haste, King! now let the thief be slain;

      Bring thou the charger back again:

      The sacred rite prevented thus

      Brings scathe and woe to all of us.

      Rise, monarch, and provide with speed

      That naught its happy course impede.”

      King Sagar in his crowded court

      Gave ear unto the priests’ report.

      He summoned straightway to his side

      His sixty thousand sons, and cried:

      “Brave sons of mine, I knew not how

      These demons are so mighty now:

      The priests began the rite so well

      All sanctified with prayer and spell.

      If in the depths of earth he hide,

      Or lurk beneath the ocean’s tide,

      Pursue, dear sons, the robber’s track;

      Slay him and bring the charger back.

      The whole of this broad earth explore,

      Sea-garlanded, from shore to shore:

      Yea, dig her up with might and main

      Until you see the horse again.

      Deep let your searching labour reach,

      A league in depth dug out by each.

      The robber of our horse pursue,

      And please your sire who orders you.

      My grandson, I, this priestly train,

      Till the steed comes, will here remain.”

      Their eager hearts with transport burned

      As to their task the heroes turned.

      Obedient to their father, they

      Through earth’s recesses forced their way.

      With iron arms’ unflinching toil

      Each dug a league beneath the soil.

      Earth, cleft asunder, groaned in pain,

      As emulous they plied amain

      Sharp-pointed coulter, pick, and bar,

      Hard as the bolts of Indra are.

      Then loud the horrid clamour rose

      Of monsters dying neath their blows,

      Giant and demon, fiend and snake,

      That in earth’s core their dwelling make.

      They dug, in ire that naught could stay,

      Through sixty thousand leagues their way,

      Cleaving the earth with matchless strength

      Till hell itself they reached at length.

Thus digging searched they Jambudvip2

      With all its hills and mountains steep.

      Then a great fear began to shake

      The heart of God, bard, fiend, and snake,

      And all distressed in spirit went

      Before the Sire Omnipotent.

      With signs of woe in every face

      They sought the mighty Father’s grace,

      And trembling still and ill at ease

      Addressed their Lord in words like these:

      “The sons of Sagar, Sire benign,

      Pierce the whole earth with mine on mine,

      And as their ruthless work they ply

      Innumerable creatures die.

      “This is the thief,” the princes say,

      “Who

---

Скачать книгу