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Valmiki - Canto 1: Narad
Work rating: Medium

To sainted Nárad, prince of those
Whose lore in words of wisdom flows.
Whose constant care and chief delight
Were Scripture and ascetic rite,
The good Válmíki, first and best
Of hermit saints, these words addressed:
`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?
Queen Fortune`s best and dearest friend,
Whose steps her choicest gifts attend?
Who may with Sun and Moon compare,
With Indra, Vishnu, Fire, and Air?
Grant, Saint divine, the boon I ask,
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
The present, past, and future lie,
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.
From old Ikshváku`s line he came,
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,
His threat displays the auspicious sign.
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,
His strong arms reach below his knee;
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
The Vedas and their kindred lore.
Well skilled is he the bow to draw, 
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.
The joy of Queen Kaus`alyá`s heart,
In every virtue he has part:
Firm as Himálaya`s snowy steep,
Unfathomed like the mighty deep:
The peer of Vishnu`s power and might,
And lovely as the Lord of Night;
Patient as Earth, but, roused to ire,
Fierce as the world-destroying fire;
In bounty like the Lord of Gold,
And Justice self in human mould.
With him, his best and eldest son,
By all his princely virtues won
King Das`aratha willed to share
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 of duty firmly tied,
The wretched king perforce complied.
Ráma, to please Kaikeyí went
Obedient forth to banishment.
Then Lakshman`s truth was nobly shown,
Then were his love and courage known,
When for his brother`s sake he dared
All perils, and his exile shared.
And Sítá, Ráma`s darling wife,
Loved even as he loved his life,
Whom happy marks combined to bless,
A miracle of loveliness,
Of Janak`s royal lineage sprung,
Most excellent of women, clung
To her dear lord, like RohiníRejoicing with the Moon to be.
The King and people, sad of mood,
The hero`s car awhile pursued.
But when Prince Ráma lighted down
At S`riugavera`s pleasant town,
Where Gangá`s holy waters flow,
He bade his driver turn and go.
Guha, Nishádas` king, he met,
And on the farther bank was set.
Then on from wood to wood they strayed,
O`er many a stream, through constant shade,
As Bharadvája bade them, till
They came to Chitrakúta`s hill.
And Ráma there, with Lakshman`s aid,
A pleasant little cottage made,
And spent his days with Sítá, dressed
In coat of bark and deerskin vest.
And Chitrakuta grew to be
As bright with those illustrious three
An Meru`s sacred peaks that shine
With glory, when the Gods recline
Beneath them: Siva`s self between
The Lord of Gold and Beauty`s Queen.
The aged king for Rama pined,
And for the skies the earth resigned,
Bharat, his son, refused to reign,
Though urged by all the twice-born train.
Forth to the woods he fared to meet
His brother, fell before his feet,
And cried, `Thy claim all men allow:
O come, our lord and king be thou.`
But Rama nobly chose to be
Observant of his sire`s decree.
He placed his sandals in his hand
A pledge that he would rule the land:
And bade his brother turn again.
Then Bharat. finding prayer was vain,
The sandals took and went away;
Nor in Ayodhyá would he stay.
But turned to Nandigráma, where
He ruled the realm with watchful care,
Still longing eagerly to learn
Tidings of Ráma`s safe return.
Then lest the people should repeat
Their visit to his calm retreat,
Away from Chitrakúta`s hill
Fared Ráma ever onward till
Beneath the shady trees he stood
Of Dandaká`s primeval wood,
Virádha, giant fiend, he slew,
And then Agastya`s friendship knew.
Counselled by him he gained the sword
And bow of Indra, heavenly lord:
A pair of quivers too, that bore
Of arrows an exhaustless store.
While there he dwelt in greenwood shade
The trembling hermits sought his aid,
And bade him with his sword and bow
Destroy the fiends who worked them woe:
To come like Indra strong and brave,
A guardian God to help and save.
And Ráma`s falchion left its trace
Deep cut on Súrpanakhá`s face:
A hideous giantess who came
Burning for him with lawless flame.
Their sister`s cries the giants heard.
And vengeance in each bosom stirred:
The monster of the triple head.
And Dúshan to the contest sped.
But they and myriad fiends beside
Beneath the might of Ráma died.
When Rávan, dreaded warrior, knew
The slaughter of his giant crew:
Rávan, the king, whose name of fear
Earth, hell, and heaven all shook to hear:
He bade the fiend Márícha aid
The vengeful plot his fury laid.
In vain the wise Márícha tried
To turn him from his course aside:
Not Rávan`s self, he said, might hope
With Ráma and his strength to cope.
Impelled by fate and blind with rage
He came to Ráma`s hermitage.
There, by Márícha`s magic art,
He wiled the princely youths apart,
The vulture slew, and bore away
The wife of Ráma as his prey.
The son of Raghu came and found
Jatáyu slain upon the ground.
He rushed within his leafy cot;
He sought his wife, but found her not.
Then, then the hero`s senses failed;
In mad despair he wept and wailed,
Upon the pile that bird he laid,
And still in quest of Sitá strayed.
A hideous giant then he saw,
Kabandha named, a shape of awe.
The monstrous fiend he smote and slew,
And in the flame the body threw;
When straight from out the funeral flame
In lovely form Kabandha came,
And bade him seek in his distress
A wise and holy hermitess.
By counsel of this saintly dame
To Pampá`s pleasant flood he came,
And there the steadfast friendship won
Of Hanumán the Wind-God`s son.
Counselled by him he told his grief
To great Sugríva, Vánar chief,
Who, knowing all the tale, before
The sacred flame alliance swore.
Sugríva to his new-found friend
Told his own story to the end:
His hate of Báli for the wrong
And insult he had borne so long.
And Ráma lent a willing ear
And promised to allay his fear.
Sugríva warned him of the might
Of Báli, matchless in the fight,
And, credence for his tale to gain,
Showed the huge fiend by Báli slain.
The prostrate corpse of mountain size
Seemed nothing in the hero`s eyes;
He lightly kicked it, as it lay,
And cast it twenty leagues away.
To prove his might his arrows through
Seven palms in line, uninjured, flew.
He cleft a mighty hill apart,
And down to hell he hurled his dart,
Then high Sugríva`s spirit rose,
Assured of conquest o`er his foes.
With his new champion by his side
To vast Kishkindhá`s cave he hied.
Then, summoned by his awful shout,
King Báli came in fury out,
First comforted his trembling wife,
Then sought Sugríva in the strife.
One shaft from Ráma`s deadly bow
The monarch in the dust laid low.
Then Ráma bade Sugríva reign
In place of royal Báli slain.
Then speedy envoys hurried forth
Eastward and westward, south and north,
Commanded by the grateful king
Tidings of Ráma`s spouse to bring.
Then by Sampáti`s counsel led,
Brave Hanumán, who mocked at dread,
Sprang at one wild tremendous leap
Two hundred leagues across the deep.
To Lanká`s town he urged his way,
Where Rávan held his royal sway.
There pensive `neath As`oka boughs
He found poor Sitá, Ráma`s spouse.
He gave the hapless girl a ring,
A token from her lord and king.
A pledge from her fair hand he bore;
Then battered down the garden door.
Five captains of the host be slew,
Seven sons of councillors o`erthrew;
Crushed youthful Aksha on the field,
Then to his captors chose to yield.
Soon from their bonds his limbs were free,
But honouring the high decree
Which Brahmá had pronounced of yore,
He calmly all their insults bore.
The town he burnt with hostile flame,
And spoke again with Ráma`s dame,
Then swiftly back to Ráma flew
With tidings of the interview.
Then with Sugríva for his guide,
Came Ráma to the ocean side.
He smote the sea with shafts as bright
As sunbeams in their summer height,
And quick appeared the Rivers` King
Obedient to the summoning.
A bridge was thrown by Nala o`er
The narrow sea from shore to shore.
They crossed to Lanká`s golden town,
Where Ráma`s hand smote Rávan down.
Vibhishan there was left to reign
Over his brother`s wide domain.
To meet her husband Sitá came;
But Ráma, stung with ire and shame,
With bitter words his wife addressed
Before the crowd that round her pressed.
But Sitá, touched with noble ire,
Gave her fair body to the fire.
Then straight the God of Wind appeared,
And words from heaven her honour cleared.
And Ráma clasped his wife again,
Uninjured, pure from spot and stain,
Obedient to the Lord of Fire
And the high mandate of his sire.
Led by the Lord who rules the sky,
The Gods and heavenly saints drew nigh,
And honoured him with worthy meed,
Rejoicing in each glorious deed.
His task achieved, his foe removed,
He triumphed, by the Gods approved,
By grace of Heaven he raised to life
The chieftains slain in mortal strife;
Then in the magic chariot through
The clouds to Nandigráma flew.
Met by his faithful brothers there,
He loosed his votive coil of hair:
Thence fair Ayodhyá`s town he gained,
And o`er his father`s kingdom reigned.
Disease or famine ne`er oppressed
His happy people, richly blest
With all the joys of ample wealth,
Of sweet content and perfect health.
No widow mourned her well-loved mate,
No sire his son`s untimely fate.
They feared not storm or robber`s hand;
No fire or flood laid waste the land:
The Golden Age had come again
To bless the days of Ráma`s reign.
From him, the great and glorious king,
Shall many a princely scion spring.
And he shall rule, beloved by men,
Ten thousand years and hundreds ten,
And when his life on earth is past
To Brahmá`s world shall go at last.`
Whoe`er this noble poem reads
That tells the tale of Ráma`s deeds,
Good as the Scriptures, he shall be
From every sin and blemish free.
Whoever reads the saving strain,
With all his kin the heavens shall gain.
Bráhmans who read shall gather hence
The highest praise for eloquence.
The warrior, o`er the laud shall reign,
The merchant, luck in trade obtain;
And S`údras listening ne`er shall fail
To reap advantage from the tale.
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