Valmiki Ramayana 1.14: caturdaśaḥ sargaḥ

1.14.1

medhāvī tu tato dhyātvā sa kiṃ cid idam uttamam
labdhasaṃjñas tatas taṃ tu vedajño nṛpam abravīt

The saint, well read in holy lore,
Pondered awhile his answer o'er.
And thus again addressed the king,
His wandering thoughts regathering:
'Another rite will I begin
Which shall the sons thou cravest win,
Where all things shall be duly sped
And first Atharva texts be read.'

1.14.2

iṣṭiṃ te 'haṃ kariṣyāmi putrīyāṃ putrakāraṇāt
atharvaśirasi proktair mantraiḥ siddhāṃ vidhānataḥ

1.14.3

tataḥ prākramad iṣṭiṃ tāṃ putrīyāṃ putra kāraṇāt
juhāva cāgnau tejasvī mantradṛṣṭena karmaṇā

Then by Vibhándak's gentle son
Was that high sacrifice begun,
The king's advantage seeking still
And zealous to perform his will.
Now all the Gods had gathered there,
Each one for his allotted share:
Brahmá, the ruler of the sky,
Sthanu, Náráyan, Lord most high
And holy Indra men might view
With Maruts for his retinue;
The heavenly chorister, and saint,
And spirit pure from earthly taint,
With one accord had sought the place
The high-souled monarch's rite to grace.
Then to the Gods who came to take
Their proper share the hermit spake:
'For you has Das'aratha slain
The votive steed, a son to gain;
Stern penance-rites the king has tried,
And in firm faith on you relied,

1.14.4

tato devāḥ sagandharvāḥ siddhāś ca paramarṣayaḥ
bhāgapratigrahārthaṃ vai samavetā yathāvidhi

1.14.5

tāḥ sametya yathānyāyaṃ tasmin sadasi devatāḥ
abruvaṃl lokakartāraṃ brahmāṇaṃ vacanaṃ mahat

These words the Gods in answer said,
And vanished thence by Indra led.
Thus to the Lord, the worlds who made,
The Immortals all assembled prayed:
'O Brahmá, mighty by thy grace,
Rávan, who rules the giant race,
Torments us in his senseless pride,
And penance-loving saints beside.
For thou well pleased in days of old
Gavest the boon that makes him bold,
That God nor demon e'er should kill
His charmed life, for so thy will.
We, honouring that high behest,
Bear all his rage though sore distressed.
That lord of giants fierce and fell
Scourges the earth and heaven and hell.
Mad with thy boon, his impious rage
Smites saint and bard and God and sage.
The sun himself withholds his glow.
The wind in fear forbears to blow;
The fire restrains his wonted heat
Where stand the dreaded Rávan's feet,
And, necklaced with the wandering ware,
The sea before him fears to rave.
Kuvera's self in sad defeat
Is driven from his blissful seat.
We see, we feel the giant's might.
And woe comes o'er us and affright.
Tc thee, O Lord, thy suppliants pray
To find some cure this plague to stay.'

1.14.6

bhagavaṃs tvatprasādena rāvaṇo nāma rākṣasaḥ
sarvānno bādhate vīryāc chāsituṃ taṃ na śaknumaḥ

1.14.7

tvayā tasmai varo dattaḥ prītena bhagavan purā
mānayantaś ca taṃ nityaṃ sarvaṃ tasya kṣamāmahe

1.14.8

udvejayati lokāṃs trīn ucchritān dveṣṭi durmatiḥ
śakraṃ tridaśarājānaṃ pradharṣayitum icchati

1.14.9

ṛṣīn yakṣān sagandharvān asurān brāhmaṇāṃs tathā
atikrāmati durdharṣo varadānena mohitaḥ

1.14.10

nainaṃ sūryaḥ pratapati pārśve vāti na mārutaḥ
calormimālī taṃ dṛṣṭvā samudro 'pi na kampate

1.14.11

tan manan no bhayaṃ tasmād rākṣasād ghoradarśanāt
vadhārthaṃ tasya bhagavann upāyaṃ kartum arhasi

1.14.12

evam uktaḥ suraiḥ sarvaiś cintayitvā tato 'bravīt
hantāyaṃ vihitas tasya vadhopāyo durātmanaḥ

Thus by the gathered Gods addressed
He pondered in his secret breast,
And said: 'One only way I find
To slay this fiend of evil mind.
He prayed me once his life to guard
From demon, God, and heavenly bard,
And spirits of the earth and air,
And I consenting heard his prayer.
But the proud giant in Inn scorn
Recked not of man of woman born.
None else may take his life away,
But only man the fiend may slay.'
The Gods, with Indra at their head,
Rejoiced to hear the words he said.
Then crowned with glory like a flame,
Lord Vishnu to the council came;
His hands shell, mace, and discus bore,
Aud saffron were the robes he wore.

1.14.13

tena gandharvayakṣāṇāṃ devadānavarakṣasām
avadhyo 'smīti vāg uktā tathety uktaṃ ca tan mayā

1.14.14

nākīrtayad avajñānāt tad rakṣo mānuṣāṃs tadā
tasmāt sa mānuṣād vadhyo mṛtur nānyo 'sya vidyate

1.14.15

etac chrutvā priyaṃ vākyaṃ brahmaṇā samudāhṛtam
devā maharṣayaḥ sarve prahṛṣṭās te 'bhavaṃs tadā

1.14.16

etasminn antare viṣṇur upayāto mahādyutiḥ
brahmaṇā ca samāgamya tatra tasthau samāhitaḥ

Riding his eagle through the crowd,
As the sun rides upon a cloud,
With bracelets of fine gold, he came
Loud welcomed by the Gods' acclaim.
His praise they sang with one consent,
And cried, in lowly reverence bent:
'O Lord whose hand fierce Madhu slew,
Be thou our refuge, firm and true;
Friend of the suffering worlds art thou,
We pray thee help thy suppliants now.'
Then Vishnu spake: 'Ye Gods, declare,
What may I do to grant your prayer?'

1.14.17

tam abruvan surāḥ sarve samabhiṣṭūya saṃnatāḥ
tvāṃ niyokṣyāmahe viṣṇo lokānāṃ hitakāmyayā

1.14.18

rājño daśarathasya tvam ayodhyādhipater vibho
dharmajñasya vadānyasya maharṣisamatejasaḥ
tasya bhāryāsu tisṛṣu hrīśrīkīrtyupamāsu ca
viṣṇo putratvam āgaccha kṛtvātmānaṃ caturvidham

'King Das'aratha,' thus cried they,
'Fervent in penance many a day,
The sacrificial steed has slain,
Longing for sons, but all in vain.
Now, at the cry of us forlorn,
Incarnate as his seed be born.
Three queens has he: each lovely dame
Like Beauty, Modesty, or Fame.
Divide thyself in four, and be
His offspring by these noble three.
Man's nature take, and slay in fight
Rávan who laughs at heavenly might:
This common scourge, this rankling thorn
Whom the three worlds too long have borne.
For Rávan in the senseless pride
Of might unequalled has defied
The host of heaven, and plagues with woe
Angel and bard and saint below,
Crushing each spirit and each maid
Who plays in Nandan's heavenly shade.
O conquering Lord, to thee we bow;
Our surest hope and trust art thou.
Regard the world of men below,
And slay the Gods' tremendous foe.'

1.14.19

tatra tvaṃ mānuṣo bhūtvā pravṛddhaṃ lokakaṇṭakam
avadhyaṃ daivatair viṣṇo samare jahi rāvaṇam

1.14.20

sa hi devān sagandharvān siddhāṃś ca ṛṣisattamān
rākṣaso rāvaṇo mūrkho vīryotsekena bādhate

1.14.21

tad uddhataṃ rāvaṇam ṛddhatejasaṃ pravṛddhadarpaṃ tridaśeśvaradviṣam
virāvaṇaṃ sādhu tapasvikaṇṭakaṃ tapasvinām uddhara taṃ bhayāvaham

God, saint, aud nymph, and ministrel throng
With heavenly voices raised their song
In hymns of triumph to the God
Whose conquering feet on Madhu trod:
'Champion of Gods, as man appear,
This cruel Rávan slay,
The thorn that saints and hermits fear,
The plague that none can stay.
In savage fury uncontrolled
His pride for ever grows:
He dares the Lord of Gods to hold
Among his deadly foes.'