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Ramayana, Epic of Rama, Prince of India

An Abbreviated Translation of the Indian Classic, the Ramayana by Romesh Chundar Dutt in 2,000 verses

VII. In the Nilgiri

VII. In the Nilgiri Mountains - 106 IV. The Consecration of Sugriva [111] Tears of love the tender Tara on her slaughtered hero shed, E’en Sugriva’s bosom melted when he saw his brother dead, And each Vanar chief and warrior, maha-matra, lord and peer, Gathered round the sad Sugriva wet with unavailing tear! And they girt the victor Rama and they praised his wond’rous might, As the heavenly rishis gather circling BRAHMA’S throne of light, Hanuman of sun-like radiance, lofty as a hill of gold, Clasped his hands in due obeisance, spake in accents calm and bold: “By thy prowess, peerless Rama, prince Sugriva is our lord, To his father’s throne and empire, to his father’s town restored, Cleansed by bath and fragrant unguents and in royal garments gay, He shall with his gold and garlands homage to the victor pay, To the rock-bound fair Kishkindha do thy friendly footsteps bend, And as monarch of the Vanars consecrate thy grateful friend!” “Fourteen years,” so Rama answered, “by his father’s stern command, In a city’s sacred confines banished Rama may not stand, Friend and comrade, brave Sugriva, enter thou the city wall, And assume the royal sceptre in thy father’s royal hall. Gallant Angad, son of Bali, is in regal duties trained, Ruling partner of thy empire be the valiant prince ordained, Eldest son of eldest brother, – such the maxim that we own, – Worthy of his father’s kingdom, doth ascend his father’s throne. Listen! ’tis the month of Sravan, now begins the yearly rain, In these months of wind and deluge thoughts of vengeful strife were vain, [112] Enter then thy royal city, fair Kishkindha be thy home, With my ever faithful Lakshman let me in these mountains roam. Spacious is yon rocky cavern fragrant with the mountain air, Bright with lily and with lotus, watered by a streamlet fair,

VII. In the Nilgiri Mountains - 107 Here we dwell till month of Kartik when the clouded sky will clear, And the time of war and vengeance on our foeman shall be near.” Bowing to the victor’s mandate brave Sugriva marched in state, And the host of thronging Vanars entered by the city gate, Prostrate chiefs with due obeisance rendered homage, one and all, And Sugriva blessed his people, stepped within the palace hall. And they sprinkled sacred water from the vases jewel-graced, And they waved the fan of chowri, raised the sun-shade silver-laced, And they spread the gold and jewel, grain and herb and fragrant ghee, Sapling twigs and bending branches, blossoms from the flowering tree, Milk-white garments gem-bespangled, and the Chandan’s fragrant dye, Wreaths and spices, snow-white lilies, lotus azure as the sky, Jatarupa and Priyangu, honey, curd and holy oil, Costly sandals gilt and jewelled, tiger-skin the hunter’s spoil! Decked in gold and scented garlands, robed in radiance rich and rare, Sweetly stepped around Sugriva sixteen maidens passing fair, Priests received the royal bounty, gift and garment gold-belaced, And they lit the holy altar with the sacred mantra graced, And they poured the sweet libation on the altar’s lighted flame, And on throne of royal splendour placed the chief of royal fame! On a high and open terrace with auspicious garlands graced, Facing eastward, in his glory was the brave Sugriva placed, Water from each holy river, from each tirtha famed of old, From the broad and boundless ocean, was arranged in jars of gold, [113] And from vase and horn of wild bull, on their monarch and their lord, Holy consecrating water chiefs and loyal courtiers poured. Gaya and the great Gavaksha, Gandha-madan proud and brave, Hanuman held up the vases, Jambaman his succour gave, And they laved the king Sugriya as Immortals in the sky, Consecrate the star-eyed INDRA in his mansions bright and high,

Mahabharata, Epic of the Bharatas