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Valmiki Ramayana 2.93.13

Vālmīkirāmāyaṇa 2.93.13

Language
Sanskrit

2.93.13

atha gatvā muhūrtaṃ tu citrakūṭaṃ sa rāghavaḥ
mandākinīm anuprāptas taṃ janaṃ cedam abravīt

'Then Bharat to Satrughna showed
The spot, and eager onward strode,
First bidding Saint Vasishtha bring
The widowed consorts of the king,
As by fraternal love impelled
His onward course the hero held,
Sumantra followed close behind
Satrughra with an anxious mind:
Not Bharat's self more fain could be
To look on Rama's face than he.
As, speeding on, the spot he neared,
Amid the hermits' homes appeared
His brother's cot with leaves o'erspread,
And by its side a lowly shed.
Before the shed great heaps were left
Of gathered flowers and billets cleft,
And on the trees hung grass and bark
Rama and Lakshman's path to mark:
And heaps of fuel to provide
Against the cold stood ready dried.
The long-armed chief, as on he went
In glory's light preeminent,
With joyous words like these addressed
The brave Satrughna and the rest:
'This is the place, I little doubt,
Which Bharadvája pointed out,
Not far from where we stand must be
The woodland stream, Mandákini.
Here on the mountain's woody side
Roam elephants in tusked pride,
And ever with a roar and cry
Each other, as they meet, defy.
And see those smoke-wreaths thick and dark:
The presence of the flame they mark,
Which hermits in the forest strive
By every art to keep alive.
O happy me! my task is done,
And I shall look on Raghu's son,
Like some great saint, who loves to treat
His elders with all reverence meet.'
Thus Bharat reached that forest rill,
Thus roamed on Chitrakuta's hill;
Then pity in his breast awoke,
And to his friends the hero spoke:
'Woe, woe upon my life and birth!
The prince of men, the lord of earth
Has sought the lonely wood to dwell
Sequestered in a hermit's cell.
Through me, through me these sorrows fall
On him the splendid lord of all:
Through me resigning earthly bliss
He hides him in a home like this.
Now will I, by the world abhorred,
Fall at the dear feet of my lord,
And at fair Sitft's too, to win
His pardon for my heinous sin.'

Ralph T. H. Griffith 1870, The Rámáyan of Válmíki, translated into English verse

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