The Rāmāyaṇa of Vālmīki 2.66.15-17
Vālmīkirāmāyaṇa 2.66.15-17
- Language
- Sanskrit
2.66.15
tac chrutvā bharato vākyaṃ dharmābhijanavāñ śuciḥ
papāta sahasā bhūmau pitṛśokabalārditaḥ
When Bharat pious, pure, and true,
Heard the sad words which pierced him through,
Grieved for the sire he loved so well
Prostrate upon the ground he fell:
Down fell the strong-armed hero, high
Tossing his arms, and a sad cry,
'Ah, woe is me, unhappy, slain!'
Burst from his lips again, again,
Afflicted for his father's fate
By grief's intolerable weight,
With every sense amazed and cowed
The splendid hero wailed aloud:
'Ah me, my royal father's bed
Of old a gentle radiance shed,
Like the pure sky when clouds are past,
And the moon's light is o'er it cast:
Ah, of its wisest lord bereft,
It shows to-day faint radiance left,
As when the moon has left the sky.
Or mighty Ocean's depths are dry.'
2.66.16
tataḥ śokena saṃvītaḥ pitur maraṇaduḥkhitaḥ
vilalāpa mahātejā bhrāntākulitacetanaḥ
When Bharat pious, pure, and true,
Heard the sad words which pierced him through,
Grieved for the sire he loved so well
Prostrate upon the ground he fell:
Down fell the strong-armed hero, high
Tossing his arms, and a sad cry,
'Ah, woe is me, unhappy, slain!'
Burst from his lips again, again,
Afflicted for his father's fate
By grief's intolerable weight,
With every sense amazed and cowed
The splendid hero wailed aloud:
'Ah me, my royal father's bed
Of old a gentle radiance shed,
Like the pure sky when clouds are past,
And the moon's light is o'er it cast:
Ah, of its wisest lord bereft,
It shows to-day faint radiance left,
As when the moon has left the sky.
Or mighty Ocean's depths are dry.'
2.66.17
etat suruciraṃ bhāti pitur me śayanaṃ purā
tad idaṃ na vibhāty adya vihīnaṃ tena dhīmatā
When Bharat pious, pure, and true,
Heard the sad words which pierced him through,
Grieved for the sire he loved so well
Prostrate upon the ground he fell:
Down fell the strong-armed hero, high
Tossing his arms, and a sad cry,
'Ah, woe is me, unhappy, slain!'
Burst from his lips again, again,
Afflicted for his father's fate
By grief's intolerable weight,
With every sense amazed and cowed
The splendid hero wailed aloud:
'Ah me, my royal father's bed
Of old a gentle radiance shed,
Like the pure sky when clouds are past,
And the moon's light is o'er it cast:
Ah, of its wisest lord bereft,
It shows to-day faint radiance left,
As when the moon has left the sky.
Or mighty Ocean's depths are dry.'
Translations (1)
- The Rámáyan of Válmíki, translated into English verse — Ralph T. H. Griffith 1870, English
Other recensions (2)
- Critical edition, Ayodhyā- and Araṇyakāṇḍa (revised e-text) — Sanskrit
- Southern recension — Sanskrit