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Valmiki Ramayana 3.16

Vālmīkirāmāyaṇa 3.16

Language
Sanskrit

3.16.1

kṛtābhiṣeko rāmas tu sītā saumitrir eva ca
tasmād godāvarītīrāt tato jagmuḥ svam āśramam

The bathing and the prayer were o'er;
He turned him from the grassy shore,
And with his brother and his spouse
Sought his fair home beneath the boughs,
Sitá and Lakshman by his side,
On to his cot the hero hied,
And after rites at morning due
Within the leafy shade withdrew.

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

3.16.2

āśramaṃ tam upāgamya rāghavaḥ sahalakṣmaṇaḥ
kṛtvā paurvāhṇikaṃ karma parṇaśālām upāgamat

The bathing and the prayer were o'er;
He turned him from the grassy shore,
And with his brother and his spouse
Sought his fair home beneath the boughs,
Sitá and Lakshman by his side,
On to his cot the hero hied,
And after rites at morning due
Within the leafy shade withdrew.

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

3.16.3

sa rāmaḥ parṇaśālāyām āsīnaḥ saha sītayā
virarāja mahābāhuś citrayā candramā iva
lakṣmaṇena saha bhrātrā cakāra vividhāḥ kathāḥ

Then, honoured by the devotees,
As royal Ráma sat at ease,
With Sítá near him, o'er his head
A canopy of green boughs spread,
He shone as shines the Lord of Night
By Chitrá's side, his dear delight.
With Lakshman there he sat and told
Sweet stories of the days of old,
And as the pleasant time he spent
With heart upon each tale intent,
A giantess, by fancy led,
Came wandering to his leafy shed.
Fierce S'úrpanakhí,--her of yore
The Ten-necked tyrant's mother bore,--
Saw Ráma with his noble mien
Bright as the Gods in heaven are seen;
Him from whose brow a glory gleamed,
Like lotus leaves his full eyes beamed:
Long-armed, of elephantine gait,
With hair close coiled in hermit plait:
In youthful vigour, nobly framed,
By glorious marks a king proclaimed:
Like some bright lotus lustrous-hued,
With young Kandarpa's grace endued:
As there like Indra's self he shone,
She loved the youth she gazed upon.
She grim of eye and foul of face
Loved his sweet glance and forehead's grace:
She of unlovely figure, him
Of stately form and shapely limb:
She whose dim locks disordered hung,
Him whose bright hair on high brows clung:
She whose fierce accents counselled fear,
Him whose soft tones were sweet to hear:
She whose dire form with age was dried,
Him radiant in his youthful pride:
She whose false lips maintained the wrong,
Him in the words of virtue strong:
She cruel-hearted, stained with sin,
Him just in deed and pure within.
She, hideous fiend, a thing to hate,
Him formed each eye to captivate:
Fierce passion in her bosom woke,
And thus to Raghu's son she spoke:
'With matted hair above thy brows,
With bow and shaft and this thy spouse,
How hast thou sought in hermit dress
The giant-haunted wilderness?
What dost thou here? The cause explain:
Why art thou come, and what to gain?'
As S'úrpanakhá questioned so,
Ráma, the terror of the foe,
In answer to the monster's call,
With fearless candour told her all.

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

3.16.4

tadāsīnasya rāmasya kathāsaṃsaktacetasaḥ
taṃ deśaṃ rākṣasī kā cid ājagāma yadṛcchayā

Then, honoured by the devotees,
As royal Ráma sat at ease,
With Sítá near him, o'er his head
A canopy of green boughs spread,
He shone as shines the Lord of Night
By Chitrá's side, his dear delight.
With Lakshman there he sat and told
Sweet stories of the days of old,
And as the pleasant time he spent
With heart upon each tale intent,
A giantess, by fancy led,
Came wandering to his leafy shed.
Fierce S'úrpanakhí,--her of yore
The Ten-necked tyrant's mother bore,--
Saw Ráma with his noble mien
Bright as the Gods in heaven are seen;
Him from whose brow a glory gleamed,
Like lotus leaves his full eyes beamed:
Long-armed, of elephantine gait,
With hair close coiled in hermit plait:
In youthful vigour, nobly framed,
By glorious marks a king proclaimed:
Like some bright lotus lustrous-hued,
With young Kandarpa's grace endued:
As there like Indra's self he shone,
She loved the youth she gazed upon.
She grim of eye and foul of face
Loved his sweet glance and forehead's grace:
She of unlovely figure, him
Of stately form and shapely limb:
She whose dim locks disordered hung,
Him whose bright hair on high brows clung:
She whose fierce accents counselled fear,
Him whose soft tones were sweet to hear:
She whose dire form with age was dried,
Him radiant in his youthful pride:
She whose false lips maintained the wrong,
Him in the words of virtue strong:
She cruel-hearted, stained with sin,
Him just in deed and pure within.
She, hideous fiend, a thing to hate,
Him formed each eye to captivate:
Fierce passion in her bosom woke,
And thus to Raghu's son she spoke:
'With matted hair above thy brows,
With bow and shaft and this thy spouse,
How hast thou sought in hermit dress
The giant-haunted wilderness?
What dost thou here? The cause explain:
Why art thou come, and what to gain?'
As S'úrpanakhá questioned so,
Ráma, the terror of the foe,
In answer to the monster's call,
With fearless candour told her all.

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

3.16.5

sā tu śūrpaṇakhā nāma daśagrīvasya rakṣasaḥ
bhaginī rāmam āsādya dadarśa tridaśopamam

Then, honoured by the devotees,
As royal Ráma sat at ease,
With Sítá near him, o'er his head
A canopy of green boughs spread,
He shone as shines the Lord of Night
By Chitrá's side, his dear delight.
With Lakshman there he sat and told
Sweet stories of the days of old,
And as the pleasant time he spent
With heart upon each tale intent,
A giantess, by fancy led,
Came wandering to his leafy shed.
Fierce S'úrpanakhí,--her of yore
The Ten-necked tyrant's mother bore,--
Saw Ráma with his noble mien
Bright as the Gods in heaven are seen;
Him from whose brow a glory gleamed,
Like lotus leaves his full eyes beamed:
Long-armed, of elephantine gait,
With hair close coiled in hermit plait:
In youthful vigour, nobly framed,
By glorious marks a king proclaimed:
Like some bright lotus lustrous-hued,
With young Kandarpa's grace endued:
As there like Indra's self he shone,
She loved the youth she gazed upon.
She grim of eye and foul of face
Loved his sweet glance and forehead's grace:
She of unlovely figure, him
Of stately form and shapely limb:
She whose dim locks disordered hung,
Him whose bright hair on high brows clung:
She whose fierce accents counselled fear,
Him whose soft tones were sweet to hear:
She whose dire form with age was dried,
Him radiant in his youthful pride:
She whose false lips maintained the wrong,
Him in the words of virtue strong:
She cruel-hearted, stained with sin,
Him just in deed and pure within.
She, hideous fiend, a thing to hate,
Him formed each eye to captivate:
Fierce passion in her bosom woke,
And thus to Raghu's son she spoke:
'With matted hair above thy brows,
With bow and shaft and this thy spouse,
How hast thou sought in hermit dress
The giant-haunted wilderness?
What dost thou here? The cause explain:
Why art thou come, and what to gain?'
As S'úrpanakhá questioned so,
Ráma, the terror of the foe,
In answer to the monster's call,
With fearless candour told her all.

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

3.16.6

siṃhoraskaṃ mahābāhuṃ padmapatranibhekṣaṇam
sukumāraṃ mahāsattvaṃ pārthivavyañjanānvitam

Then, honoured by the devotees,
As royal Ráma sat at ease,
With Sítá near him, o'er his head
A canopy of green boughs spread,
He shone as shines the Lord of Night
By Chitrá's side, his dear delight.
With Lakshman there he sat and told
Sweet stories of the days of old,
And as the pleasant time he spent
With heart upon each tale intent,
A giantess, by fancy led,
Came wandering to his leafy shed.
Fierce S'úrpanakhí,--her of yore
The Ten-necked tyrant's mother bore,--
Saw Ráma with his noble mien
Bright as the Gods in heaven are seen;
Him from whose brow a glory gleamed,
Like lotus leaves his full eyes beamed:
Long-armed, of elephantine gait,
With hair close coiled in hermit plait:
In youthful vigour, nobly framed,
By glorious marks a king proclaimed:
Like some bright lotus lustrous-hued,
With young Kandarpa's grace endued:
As there like Indra's self he shone,
She loved the youth she gazed upon.
She grim of eye and foul of face
Loved his sweet glance and forehead's grace:
She of unlovely figure, him
Of stately form and shapely limb:
She whose dim locks disordered hung,
Him whose bright hair on high brows clung:
She whose fierce accents counselled fear,
Him whose soft tones were sweet to hear:
She whose dire form with age was dried,
Him radiant in his youthful pride:
She whose false lips maintained the wrong,
Him in the words of virtue strong:
She cruel-hearted, stained with sin,
Him just in deed and pure within.
She, hideous fiend, a thing to hate,
Him formed each eye to captivate:
Fierce passion in her bosom woke,
And thus to Raghu's son she spoke:
'With matted hair above thy brows,
With bow and shaft and this thy spouse,
How hast thou sought in hermit dress
The giant-haunted wilderness?
What dost thou here? The cause explain:
Why art thou come, and what to gain?'
As S'úrpanakhá questioned so,
Ráma, the terror of the foe,
In answer to the monster's call,
With fearless candour told her all.

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

3.16.7

rāmam indīvaraśyāmaṃ kandarpasadṛśaprabham
babhūvendropamaṃ dṛṣṭvā rākṣasī kāmamohitā

Then, honoured by the devotees,
As royal Ráma sat at ease,
With Sítá near him, o'er his head
A canopy of green boughs spread,
He shone as shines the Lord of Night
By Chitrá's side, his dear delight.
With Lakshman there he sat and told
Sweet stories of the days of old,
And as the pleasant time he spent
With heart upon each tale intent,
A giantess, by fancy led,
Came wandering to his leafy shed.
Fierce S'úrpanakhí,--her of yore
The Ten-necked tyrant's mother bore,--
Saw Ráma with his noble mien
Bright as the Gods in heaven are seen;
Him from whose brow a glory gleamed,
Like lotus leaves his full eyes beamed:
Long-armed, of elephantine gait,
With hair close coiled in hermit plait:
In youthful vigour, nobly framed,
By glorious marks a king proclaimed:
Like some bright lotus lustrous-hued,
With young Kandarpa's grace endued:
As there like Indra's self he shone,
She loved the youth she gazed upon.
She grim of eye and foul of face
Loved his sweet glance and forehead's grace:
She of unlovely figure, him
Of stately form and shapely limb:
She whose dim locks disordered hung,
Him whose bright hair on high brows clung:
She whose fierce accents counselled fear,
Him whose soft tones were sweet to hear:
She whose dire form with age was dried,
Him radiant in his youthful pride:
She whose false lips maintained the wrong,
Him in the words of virtue strong:
She cruel-hearted, stained with sin,
Him just in deed and pure within.
She, hideous fiend, a thing to hate,
Him formed each eye to captivate:
Fierce passion in her bosom woke,
And thus to Raghu's son she spoke:
'With matted hair above thy brows,
With bow and shaft and this thy spouse,
How hast thou sought in hermit dress
The giant-haunted wilderness?
What dost thou here? The cause explain:
Why art thou come, and what to gain?'
As S'úrpanakhá questioned so,
Ráma, the terror of the foe,
In answer to the monster's call,
With fearless candour told her all.

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

3.16.8

sumukhaṃ durmukhī rāmaṃ vṛttamadhyaṃ mahodarī
viśālākṣaṃ virūpākṣī sukeśaṃ tāmramūrdhajā

Then, honoured by the devotees,
As royal Ráma sat at ease,
With Sítá near him, o'er his head
A canopy of green boughs spread,
He shone as shines the Lord of Night
By Chitrá's side, his dear delight.
With Lakshman there he sat and told
Sweet stories of the days of old,
And as the pleasant time he spent
With heart upon each tale intent,
A giantess, by fancy led,
Came wandering to his leafy shed.
Fierce S'úrpanakhí,--her of yore
The Ten-necked tyrant's mother bore,--
Saw Ráma with his noble mien
Bright as the Gods in heaven are seen;
Him from whose brow a glory gleamed,
Like lotus leaves his full eyes beamed:
Long-armed, of elephantine gait,
With hair close coiled in hermit plait:
In youthful vigour, nobly framed,
By glorious marks a king proclaimed:
Like some bright lotus lustrous-hued,
With young Kandarpa's grace endued:
As there like Indra's self he shone,
She loved the youth she gazed upon.
She grim of eye and foul of face
Loved his sweet glance and forehead's grace:
She of unlovely figure, him
Of stately form and shapely limb:
She whose dim locks disordered hung,
Him whose bright hair on high brows clung:
She whose fierce accents counselled fear,
Him whose soft tones were sweet to hear:
She whose dire form with age was dried,
Him radiant in his youthful pride:
She whose false lips maintained the wrong,
Him in the words of virtue strong:
She cruel-hearted, stained with sin,
Him just in deed and pure within.
She, hideous fiend, a thing to hate,
Him formed each eye to captivate:
Fierce passion in her bosom woke,
And thus to Raghu's son she spoke:
'With matted hair above thy brows,
With bow and shaft and this thy spouse,
How hast thou sought in hermit dress
The giant-haunted wilderness?
What dost thou here? The cause explain:
Why art thou come, and what to gain?'
As S'úrpanakhá questioned so,
Ráma, the terror of the foe,
In answer to the monster's call,
With fearless candour told her all.

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

3.16.9

priyarūpaṃ virūpā sā susvaraṃ bhairavasvanā
taruṇaṃ dāruṇā vṛddhā dakṣiṇaṃ vāmabhāṣiṇī

Then, honoured by the devotees,
As royal Ráma sat at ease,
With Sítá near him, o'er his head
A canopy of green boughs spread,
He shone as shines the Lord of Night
By Chitrá's side, his dear delight.
With Lakshman there he sat and told
Sweet stories of the days of old,
And as the pleasant time he spent
With heart upon each tale intent,
A giantess, by fancy led,
Came wandering to his leafy shed.
Fierce S'úrpanakhí,--her of yore
The Ten-necked tyrant's mother bore,--
Saw Ráma with his noble mien
Bright as the Gods in heaven are seen;
Him from whose brow a glory gleamed,
Like lotus leaves his full eyes beamed:
Long-armed, of elephantine gait,
With hair close coiled in hermit plait:
In youthful vigour, nobly framed,
By glorious marks a king proclaimed:
Like some bright lotus lustrous-hued,
With young Kandarpa's grace endued:
As there like Indra's self he shone,
She loved the youth she gazed upon.
She grim of eye and foul of face
Loved his sweet glance and forehead's grace:
She of unlovely figure, him
Of stately form and shapely limb:
She whose dim locks disordered hung,
Him whose bright hair on high brows clung:
She whose fierce accents counselled fear,
Him whose soft tones were sweet to hear:
She whose dire form with age was dried,
Him radiant in his youthful pride:
She whose false lips maintained the wrong,
Him in the words of virtue strong:
She cruel-hearted, stained with sin,
Him just in deed and pure within.
She, hideous fiend, a thing to hate,
Him formed each eye to captivate:
Fierce passion in her bosom woke,
And thus to Raghu's son she spoke:
'With matted hair above thy brows,
With bow and shaft and this thy spouse,
How hast thou sought in hermit dress
The giant-haunted wilderness?
What dost thou here? The cause explain:
Why art thou come, and what to gain?'
As S'úrpanakhá questioned so,
Ráma, the terror of the foe,
In answer to the monster's call,
With fearless candour told her all.

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

3.16.10

nyāyavṛttaṃ sudurvṛttā priyam apriyadarśanā
śarīrajasamāviṣṭā rākṣasī rāmam abravīt

Then, honoured by the devotees,
As royal Ráma sat at ease,
With Sítá near him, o'er his head
A canopy of green boughs spread,
He shone as shines the Lord of Night
By Chitrá's side, his dear delight.
With Lakshman there he sat and told
Sweet stories of the days of old,
And as the pleasant time he spent
With heart upon each tale intent,
A giantess, by fancy led,
Came wandering to his leafy shed.
Fierce S'úrpanakhí,--her of yore
The Ten-necked tyrant's mother bore,--
Saw Ráma with his noble mien
Bright as the Gods in heaven are seen;
Him from whose brow a glory gleamed,
Like lotus leaves his full eyes beamed:
Long-armed, of elephantine gait,
With hair close coiled in hermit plait:
In youthful vigour, nobly framed,
By glorious marks a king proclaimed:
Like some bright lotus lustrous-hued,
With young Kandarpa's grace endued:
As there like Indra's self he shone,
She loved the youth she gazed upon.
She grim of eye and foul of face
Loved his sweet glance and forehead's grace:
She of unlovely figure, him
Of stately form and shapely limb:
She whose dim locks disordered hung,
Him whose bright hair on high brows clung:
She whose fierce accents counselled fear,
Him whose soft tones were sweet to hear:
She whose dire form with age was dried,
Him radiant in his youthful pride:
She whose false lips maintained the wrong,
Him in the words of virtue strong:
She cruel-hearted, stained with sin,
Him just in deed and pure within.
She, hideous fiend, a thing to hate,
Him formed each eye to captivate:
Fierce passion in her bosom woke,
And thus to Raghu's son she spoke:
'With matted hair above thy brows,
With bow and shaft and this thy spouse,
How hast thou sought in hermit dress
The giant-haunted wilderness?
What dost thou here? The cause explain:
Why art thou come, and what to gain?'
As S'úrpanakhá questioned so,
Ráma, the terror of the foe,
In answer to the monster's call,
With fearless candour told her all.

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

3.16.11

jaṭī tāpasarūpeṇa sabhāryaḥ śaracāpadhṛk
āgatas tvam imaṃ deśaṃ kathaṃ rākṣasasevitam

Then, honoured by the devotees,
As royal Ráma sat at ease,
With Sítá near him, o'er his head
A canopy of green boughs spread,
He shone as shines the Lord of Night
By Chitrá's side, his dear delight.
With Lakshman there he sat and told
Sweet stories of the days of old,
And as the pleasant time he spent
With heart upon each tale intent,
A giantess, by fancy led,
Came wandering to his leafy shed.
Fierce S'úrpanakhí,--her of yore
The Ten-necked tyrant's mother bore,--
Saw Ráma with his noble mien
Bright as the Gods in heaven are seen;
Him from whose brow a glory gleamed,
Like lotus leaves his full eyes beamed:
Long-armed, of elephantine gait,
With hair close coiled in hermit plait:
In youthful vigour, nobly framed,
By glorious marks a king proclaimed:
Like some bright lotus lustrous-hued,
With young Kandarpa's grace endued:
As there like Indra's self he shone,
She loved the youth she gazed upon.
She grim of eye and foul of face
Loved his sweet glance and forehead's grace:
She of unlovely figure, him
Of stately form and shapely limb:
She whose dim locks disordered hung,
Him whose bright hair on high brows clung:
She whose fierce accents counselled fear,
Him whose soft tones were sweet to hear:
She whose dire form with age was dried,
Him radiant in his youthful pride:
She whose false lips maintained the wrong,
Him in the words of virtue strong:
She cruel-hearted, stained with sin,
Him just in deed and pure within.
She, hideous fiend, a thing to hate,
Him formed each eye to captivate:
Fierce passion in her bosom woke,
And thus to Raghu's son she spoke:
'With matted hair above thy brows,
With bow and shaft and this thy spouse,
How hast thou sought in hermit dress
The giant-haunted wilderness?
What dost thou here? The cause explain:
Why art thou come, and what to gain?'
As S'úrpanakhá questioned so,
Ráma, the terror of the foe,
In answer to the monster's call,
With fearless candour told her all.

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

3.16.12

evam uktas tu rākṣasyā śūrpaṇakhyā paraṃtapaḥ
ṛjubuddhitayā sarvam ākhyātum upacakrame

Then, honoured by the devotees,
As royal Ráma sat at ease,
With Sítá near him, o'er his head
A canopy of green boughs spread,
He shone as shines the Lord of Night
By Chitrá's side, his dear delight.
With Lakshman there he sat and told
Sweet stories of the days of old,
And as the pleasant time he spent
With heart upon each tale intent,
A giantess, by fancy led,
Came wandering to his leafy shed.
Fierce S'úrpanakhí,--her of yore
The Ten-necked tyrant's mother bore,--
Saw Ráma with his noble mien
Bright as the Gods in heaven are seen;
Him from whose brow a glory gleamed,
Like lotus leaves his full eyes beamed:
Long-armed, of elephantine gait,
With hair close coiled in hermit plait:
In youthful vigour, nobly framed,
By glorious marks a king proclaimed:
Like some bright lotus lustrous-hued,
With young Kandarpa's grace endued:
As there like Indra's self he shone,
She loved the youth she gazed upon.
She grim of eye and foul of face
Loved his sweet glance and forehead's grace:
She of unlovely figure, him
Of stately form and shapely limb:
She whose dim locks disordered hung,
Him whose bright hair on high brows clung:
She whose fierce accents counselled fear,
Him whose soft tones were sweet to hear:
She whose dire form with age was dried,
Him radiant in his youthful pride:
She whose false lips maintained the wrong,
Him in the words of virtue strong:
She cruel-hearted, stained with sin,
Him just in deed and pure within.
She, hideous fiend, a thing to hate,
Him formed each eye to captivate:
Fierce passion in her bosom woke,
And thus to Raghu's son she spoke:
'With matted hair above thy brows,
With bow and shaft and this thy spouse,
How hast thou sought in hermit dress
The giant-haunted wilderness?
What dost thou here? The cause explain:
Why art thou come, and what to gain?'
As S'úrpanakhá questioned so,
Ráma, the terror of the foe,
In answer to the monster's call,
With fearless candour told her all.

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

3.16.13

āsīd daśaratho nāma rājā tridaśavikramaḥ
tasyāham agrajaḥ putro rāmo nāma janaiḥ śrutaḥ

'King Das'aratha reigned of old,
Like Gods celestial brave and bold.
I am his eldest son and heir,
And Ráma is the name I bear.
This brother, Lakshman, younger born,
Most faithful love to me has sworn.
My wife, this princess, dear to fame,
Is Sitá the Videhan dame.
Obedient to my sire's behest
And by the queen my mother pressed,
To keep the law and merit win,
I sought this wood to harbour in.
But speak, for I of thee in turn
Thy name, and race, and sire would learn.
Thou art of giant race, I ween.
Changing at will thy form and mien.
Speak truly, and the cause declare
That bids thee to these shades repair.'
Thus Ráma spoke: the demon heard,
And thus replied by passion spurred:
'Of giant race, what form soe'er
My fancy wills, 'tis mine to wear.
Named S'úrpanakhá here I stray,
And where I walk spread wild dismay.
King Rávan is my brother: fame
Has taught perchance his dreaded name,
Strong Kumbhakama slumbering deep
In chains of never-ending sleep:
Vibhíshan of the duteous mind.
In needs unlike his giant kind:
Dúshan and Khara, brave and bold
Whose fame by every tongue is told:
Their might by mine is far surpassed;
But when, O best of men, I cast
These fond eyes on thy form, I see
My chosen love and lord in thee.
Endowed with wondrous might am I:
Where'er my fancy leads I fly.
The poor misshapen Sitá leave,
And me, thy worthier bride receive.
Look on my beauty, and prefer
A spouse more meet than one like her:
I'll eat that ill-formed woman there:
Thy brother too her fate shall share.
But come, beloved, thou shalt roam
With me through all our woodland home;
Each varied grove with me shalt seek,
And gaze upon each mountain peak.'
As thus she spoke, the monster gazed
With sparkling eyes where passion blazed:
Then he, in lore of language learned,
This answer eloquent returned:

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

3.16.14

bhrātāyaṃ lakṣmaṇo nāma yavīyān mām anuvrataḥ
iyaṃ bhāryā ca vaidehī mama sīteti viśrutā

'King Das'aratha reigned of old,
Like Gods celestial brave and bold.
I am his eldest son and heir,
And Ráma is the name I bear.
This brother, Lakshman, younger born,
Most faithful love to me has sworn.
My wife, this princess, dear to fame,
Is Sitá the Videhan dame.
Obedient to my sire's behest
And by the queen my mother pressed,
To keep the law and merit win,
I sought this wood to harbour in.
But speak, for I of thee in turn
Thy name, and race, and sire would learn.
Thou art of giant race, I ween.
Changing at will thy form and mien.
Speak truly, and the cause declare
That bids thee to these shades repair.'
Thus Ráma spoke: the demon heard,
And thus replied by passion spurred:
'Of giant race, what form soe'er
My fancy wills, 'tis mine to wear.
Named S'úrpanakhá here I stray,
And where I walk spread wild dismay.
King Rávan is my brother: fame
Has taught perchance his dreaded name,
Strong Kumbhakama slumbering deep
In chains of never-ending sleep:
Vibhíshan of the duteous mind.
In needs unlike his giant kind:
Dúshan and Khara, brave and bold
Whose fame by every tongue is told:
Their might by mine is far surpassed;
But when, O best of men, I cast
These fond eyes on thy form, I see
My chosen love and lord in thee.
Endowed with wondrous might am I:
Where'er my fancy leads I fly.
The poor misshapen Sitá leave,
And me, thy worthier bride receive.
Look on my beauty, and prefer
A spouse more meet than one like her:
I'll eat that ill-formed woman there:
Thy brother too her fate shall share.
But come, beloved, thou shalt roam
With me through all our woodland home;
Each varied grove with me shalt seek,
And gaze upon each mountain peak.'
As thus she spoke, the monster gazed
With sparkling eyes where passion blazed:
Then he, in lore of language learned,
This answer eloquent returned:

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

3.16.15

niyogāt tu narendrasya pitur mātuś ca yantritaḥ
dharmārthaṃ dharmakāṅkṣī ca vanaṃ vastum ihāgataḥ

'King Das'aratha reigned of old,
Like Gods celestial brave and bold.
I am his eldest son and heir,
And Ráma is the name I bear.
This brother, Lakshman, younger born,
Most faithful love to me has sworn.
My wife, this princess, dear to fame,
Is Sitá the Videhan dame.
Obedient to my sire's behest
And by the queen my mother pressed,
To keep the law and merit win,
I sought this wood to harbour in.
But speak, for I of thee in turn
Thy name, and race, and sire would learn.
Thou art of giant race, I ween.
Changing at will thy form and mien.
Speak truly, and the cause declare
That bids thee to these shades repair.'
Thus Ráma spoke: the demon heard,
And thus replied by passion spurred:
'Of giant race, what form soe'er
My fancy wills, 'tis mine to wear.
Named S'úrpanakhá here I stray,
And where I walk spread wild dismay.
King Rávan is my brother: fame
Has taught perchance his dreaded name,
Strong Kumbhakama slumbering deep
In chains of never-ending sleep:
Vibhíshan of the duteous mind.
In needs unlike his giant kind:
Dúshan and Khara, brave and bold
Whose fame by every tongue is told:
Their might by mine is far surpassed;
But when, O best of men, I cast
These fond eyes on thy form, I see
My chosen love and lord in thee.
Endowed with wondrous might am I:
Where'er my fancy leads I fly.
The poor misshapen Sitá leave,
And me, thy worthier bride receive.
Look on my beauty, and prefer
A spouse more meet than one like her:
I'll eat that ill-formed woman there:
Thy brother too her fate shall share.
But come, beloved, thou shalt roam
With me through all our woodland home;
Each varied grove with me shalt seek,
And gaze upon each mountain peak.'
As thus she spoke, the monster gazed
With sparkling eyes where passion blazed:
Then he, in lore of language learned,
This answer eloquent returned:

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

3.16.16

tvāṃ tu veditum icchāmi kathyatāṃ kāsi kasya vā
iha vā kiṃnimittaṃ tvam āgatā brūhi tattvataḥ

'King Das'aratha reigned of old,
Like Gods celestial brave and bold.
I am his eldest son and heir,
And Ráma is the name I bear.
This brother, Lakshman, younger born,
Most faithful love to me has sworn.
My wife, this princess, dear to fame,
Is Sitá the Videhan dame.
Obedient to my sire's behest
And by the queen my mother pressed,
To keep the law and merit win,
I sought this wood to harbour in.
But speak, for I of thee in turn
Thy name, and race, and sire would learn.
Thou art of giant race, I ween.
Changing at will thy form and mien.
Speak truly, and the cause declare
That bids thee to these shades repair.'
Thus Ráma spoke: the demon heard,
And thus replied by passion spurred:
'Of giant race, what form soe'er
My fancy wills, 'tis mine to wear.
Named S'úrpanakhá here I stray,
And where I walk spread wild dismay.
King Rávan is my brother: fame
Has taught perchance his dreaded name,
Strong Kumbhakama slumbering deep
In chains of never-ending sleep:
Vibhíshan of the duteous mind.
In needs unlike his giant kind:
Dúshan and Khara, brave and bold
Whose fame by every tongue is told:
Their might by mine is far surpassed;
But when, O best of men, I cast
These fond eyes on thy form, I see
My chosen love and lord in thee.
Endowed with wondrous might am I:
Where'er my fancy leads I fly.
The poor misshapen Sitá leave,
And me, thy worthier bride receive.
Look on my beauty, and prefer
A spouse more meet than one like her:
I'll eat that ill-formed woman there:
Thy brother too her fate shall share.
But come, beloved, thou shalt roam
With me through all our woodland home;
Each varied grove with me shalt seek,
And gaze upon each mountain peak.'
As thus she spoke, the monster gazed
With sparkling eyes where passion blazed:
Then he, in lore of language learned,
This answer eloquent returned:

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

3.16.17

sābravīd vacanaṃ śrutvā rākṣasī madanārditā
śrūyatāṃ rāma vakṣyāmi tattvārthaṃ vacanaṃ mama

'King Das'aratha reigned of old,
Like Gods celestial brave and bold.
I am his eldest son and heir,
And Ráma is the name I bear.
This brother, Lakshman, younger born,
Most faithful love to me has sworn.
My wife, this princess, dear to fame,
Is Sitá the Videhan dame.
Obedient to my sire's behest
And by the queen my mother pressed,
To keep the law and merit win,
I sought this wood to harbour in.
But speak, for I of thee in turn
Thy name, and race, and sire would learn.
Thou art of giant race, I ween.
Changing at will thy form and mien.
Speak truly, and the cause declare
That bids thee to these shades repair.'
Thus Ráma spoke: the demon heard,
And thus replied by passion spurred:
'Of giant race, what form soe'er
My fancy wills, 'tis mine to wear.
Named S'úrpanakhá here I stray,
And where I walk spread wild dismay.
King Rávan is my brother: fame
Has taught perchance his dreaded name,
Strong Kumbhakama slumbering deep
In chains of never-ending sleep:
Vibhíshan of the duteous mind.
In needs unlike his giant kind:
Dúshan and Khara, brave and bold
Whose fame by every tongue is told:
Their might by mine is far surpassed;
But when, O best of men, I cast
These fond eyes on thy form, I see
My chosen love and lord in thee.
Endowed with wondrous might am I:
Where'er my fancy leads I fly.
The poor misshapen Sitá leave,
And me, thy worthier bride receive.
Look on my beauty, and prefer
A spouse more meet than one like her:
I'll eat that ill-formed woman there:
Thy brother too her fate shall share.
But come, beloved, thou shalt roam
With me through all our woodland home;
Each varied grove with me shalt seek,
And gaze upon each mountain peak.'
As thus she spoke, the monster gazed
With sparkling eyes where passion blazed:
Then he, in lore of language learned,
This answer eloquent returned:

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

3.16.18

ahaṃ śūrpaṇakhā nāma rākṣasī kāmarūpiṇī
araṇyaṃ vicarāmīdam ekā sarvabhayaṃkarā

'King Das'aratha reigned of old,
Like Gods celestial brave and bold.
I am his eldest son and heir,
And Ráma is the name I bear.
This brother, Lakshman, younger born,
Most faithful love to me has sworn.
My wife, this princess, dear to fame,
Is Sitá the Videhan dame.
Obedient to my sire's behest
And by the queen my mother pressed,
To keep the law and merit win,
I sought this wood to harbour in.
But speak, for I of thee in turn
Thy name, and race, and sire would learn.
Thou art of giant race, I ween.
Changing at will thy form and mien.
Speak truly, and the cause declare
That bids thee to these shades repair.'
Thus Ráma spoke: the demon heard,
And thus replied by passion spurred:
'Of giant race, what form soe'er
My fancy wills, 'tis mine to wear.
Named S'úrpanakhá here I stray,
And where I walk spread wild dismay.
King Rávan is my brother: fame
Has taught perchance his dreaded name,
Strong Kumbhakama slumbering deep
In chains of never-ending sleep:
Vibhíshan of the duteous mind.
In needs unlike his giant kind:
Dúshan and Khara, brave and bold
Whose fame by every tongue is told:
Their might by mine is far surpassed;
But when, O best of men, I cast
These fond eyes on thy form, I see
My chosen love and lord in thee.
Endowed with wondrous might am I:
Where'er my fancy leads I fly.
The poor misshapen Sitá leave,
And me, thy worthier bride receive.
Look on my beauty, and prefer
A spouse more meet than one like her:
I'll eat that ill-formed woman there:
Thy brother too her fate shall share.
But come, beloved, thou shalt roam
With me through all our woodland home;
Each varied grove with me shalt seek,
And gaze upon each mountain peak.'
As thus she spoke, the monster gazed
With sparkling eyes where passion blazed:
Then he, in lore of language learned,
This answer eloquent returned:

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

3.16.19

rāvaṇo nāma me bhrātā rākṣaso rākṣaseśvaraḥ
pravṛddhanidraś ca sadā kumbhakarṇo mahābalaḥ

'King Das'aratha reigned of old,
Like Gods celestial brave and bold.
I am his eldest son and heir,
And Ráma is the name I bear.
This brother, Lakshman, younger born,
Most faithful love to me has sworn.
My wife, this princess, dear to fame,
Is Sitá the Videhan dame.
Obedient to my sire's behest
And by the queen my mother pressed,
To keep the law and merit win,
I sought this wood to harbour in.
But speak, for I of thee in turn
Thy name, and race, and sire would learn.
Thou art of giant race, I ween.
Changing at will thy form and mien.
Speak truly, and the cause declare
That bids thee to these shades repair.'
Thus Ráma spoke: the demon heard,
And thus replied by passion spurred:
'Of giant race, what form soe'er
My fancy wills, 'tis mine to wear.
Named S'úrpanakhá here I stray,
And where I walk spread wild dismay.
King Rávan is my brother: fame
Has taught perchance his dreaded name,
Strong Kumbhakama slumbering deep
In chains of never-ending sleep:
Vibhíshan of the duteous mind.
In needs unlike his giant kind:
Dúshan and Khara, brave and bold
Whose fame by every tongue is told:
Their might by mine is far surpassed;
But when, O best of men, I cast
These fond eyes on thy form, I see
My chosen love and lord in thee.
Endowed with wondrous might am I:
Where'er my fancy leads I fly.
The poor misshapen Sitá leave,
And me, thy worthier bride receive.
Look on my beauty, and prefer
A spouse more meet than one like her:
I'll eat that ill-formed woman there:
Thy brother too her fate shall share.
But come, beloved, thou shalt roam
With me through all our woodland home;
Each varied grove with me shalt seek,
And gaze upon each mountain peak.'
As thus she spoke, the monster gazed
With sparkling eyes where passion blazed:
Then he, in lore of language learned,
This answer eloquent returned:

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

3.16.20

vibhīṣaṇas tu dharmātmā na tu rākṣasaceṣṭitaḥ
prakhyātavīryau ca raṇe bhrātarau kharadūṣaṇau

'King Das'aratha reigned of old,
Like Gods celestial brave and bold.
I am his eldest son and heir,
And Ráma is the name I bear.
This brother, Lakshman, younger born,
Most faithful love to me has sworn.
My wife, this princess, dear to fame,
Is Sitá the Videhan dame.
Obedient to my sire's behest
And by the queen my mother pressed,
To keep the law and merit win,
I sought this wood to harbour in.
But speak, for I of thee in turn
Thy name, and race, and sire would learn.
Thou art of giant race, I ween.
Changing at will thy form and mien.
Speak truly, and the cause declare
That bids thee to these shades repair.'
Thus Ráma spoke: the demon heard,
And thus replied by passion spurred:
'Of giant race, what form soe'er
My fancy wills, 'tis mine to wear.
Named S'úrpanakhá here I stray,
And where I walk spread wild dismay.
King Rávan is my brother: fame
Has taught perchance his dreaded name,
Strong Kumbhakama slumbering deep
In chains of never-ending sleep:
Vibhíshan of the duteous mind.
In needs unlike his giant kind:
Dúshan and Khara, brave and bold
Whose fame by every tongue is told:
Their might by mine is far surpassed;
But when, O best of men, I cast
These fond eyes on thy form, I see
My chosen love and lord in thee.
Endowed with wondrous might am I:
Where'er my fancy leads I fly.
The poor misshapen Sitá leave,
And me, thy worthier bride receive.
Look on my beauty, and prefer
A spouse more meet than one like her:
I'll eat that ill-formed woman there:
Thy brother too her fate shall share.
But come, beloved, thou shalt roam
With me through all our woodland home;
Each varied grove with me shalt seek,
And gaze upon each mountain peak.'
As thus she spoke, the monster gazed
With sparkling eyes where passion blazed:
Then he, in lore of language learned,
This answer eloquent returned:

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

3.16.21

tān ahaṃ samatikrāntā rāma tvāpūrvadarśanāt
samupetāsmi bhāvena bhartāraṃ puruṣottamam
cirāya bhava bhartā me sītayā kiṃ kariṣyasi

'King Das'aratha reigned of old,
Like Gods celestial brave and bold.
I am his eldest son and heir,
And Ráma is the name I bear.
This brother, Lakshman, younger born,
Most faithful love to me has sworn.
My wife, this princess, dear to fame,
Is Sitá the Videhan dame.
Obedient to my sire's behest
And by the queen my mother pressed,
To keep the law and merit win,
I sought this wood to harbour in.
But speak, for I of thee in turn
Thy name, and race, and sire would learn.
Thou art of giant race, I ween.
Changing at will thy form and mien.
Speak truly, and the cause declare
That bids thee to these shades repair.'
Thus Ráma spoke: the demon heard,
And thus replied by passion spurred:
'Of giant race, what form soe'er
My fancy wills, 'tis mine to wear.
Named S'úrpanakhá here I stray,
And where I walk spread wild dismay.
King Rávan is my brother: fame
Has taught perchance his dreaded name,
Strong Kumbhakama slumbering deep
In chains of never-ending sleep:
Vibhíshan of the duteous mind.
In needs unlike his giant kind:
Dúshan and Khara, brave and bold
Whose fame by every tongue is told:
Their might by mine is far surpassed;
But when, O best of men, I cast
These fond eyes on thy form, I see
My chosen love and lord in thee.
Endowed with wondrous might am I:
Where'er my fancy leads I fly.
The poor misshapen Sitá leave,
And me, thy worthier bride receive.
Look on my beauty, and prefer
A spouse more meet than one like her:
I'll eat that ill-formed woman there:
Thy brother too her fate shall share.
But come, beloved, thou shalt roam
With me through all our woodland home;
Each varied grove with me shalt seek,
And gaze upon each mountain peak.'
As thus she spoke, the monster gazed
With sparkling eyes where passion blazed:
Then he, in lore of language learned,
This answer eloquent returned:

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

3.16.22

vikṛtā ca virūpā ca na seyaṃ sadṛśī tava
aham evānurūpā te bhāryārūpeṇa paśya mām

'King Das'aratha reigned of old,
Like Gods celestial brave and bold.
I am his eldest son and heir,
And Ráma is the name I bear.
This brother, Lakshman, younger born,
Most faithful love to me has sworn.
My wife, this princess, dear to fame,
Is Sitá the Videhan dame.
Obedient to my sire's behest
And by the queen my mother pressed,
To keep the law and merit win,
I sought this wood to harbour in.
But speak, for I of thee in turn
Thy name, and race, and sire would learn.
Thou art of giant race, I ween.
Changing at will thy form and mien.
Speak truly, and the cause declare
That bids thee to these shades repair.'
Thus Ráma spoke: the demon heard,
And thus replied by passion spurred:
'Of giant race, what form soe'er
My fancy wills, 'tis mine to wear.
Named S'úrpanakhá here I stray,
And where I walk spread wild dismay.
King Rávan is my brother: fame
Has taught perchance his dreaded name,
Strong Kumbhakama slumbering deep
In chains of never-ending sleep:
Vibhíshan of the duteous mind.
In needs unlike his giant kind:
Dúshan and Khara, brave and bold
Whose fame by every tongue is told:
Their might by mine is far surpassed;
But when, O best of men, I cast
These fond eyes on thy form, I see
My chosen love and lord in thee.
Endowed with wondrous might am I:
Where'er my fancy leads I fly.
The poor misshapen Sitá leave,
And me, thy worthier bride receive.
Look on my beauty, and prefer
A spouse more meet than one like her:
I'll eat that ill-formed woman there:
Thy brother too her fate shall share.
But come, beloved, thou shalt roam
With me through all our woodland home;
Each varied grove with me shalt seek,
And gaze upon each mountain peak.'
As thus she spoke, the monster gazed
With sparkling eyes where passion blazed:
Then he, in lore of language learned,
This answer eloquent returned:

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

3.16.23

imāṃ virūpām asatīṃ karālāṃ nirṇatodarīm
anena saha te bhrātrā bhakṣayiṣyāmi mānuṣīm

'King Das'aratha reigned of old,
Like Gods celestial brave and bold.
I am his eldest son and heir,
And Ráma is the name I bear.
This brother, Lakshman, younger born,
Most faithful love to me has sworn.
My wife, this princess, dear to fame,
Is Sitá the Videhan dame.
Obedient to my sire's behest
And by the queen my mother pressed,
To keep the law and merit win,
I sought this wood to harbour in.
But speak, for I of thee in turn
Thy name, and race, and sire would learn.
Thou art of giant race, I ween.
Changing at will thy form and mien.
Speak truly, and the cause declare
That bids thee to these shades repair.'
Thus Ráma spoke: the demon heard,
And thus replied by passion spurred:
'Of giant race, what form soe'er
My fancy wills, 'tis mine to wear.
Named S'úrpanakhá here I stray,
And where I walk spread wild dismay.
King Rávan is my brother: fame
Has taught perchance his dreaded name,
Strong Kumbhakama slumbering deep
In chains of never-ending sleep:
Vibhíshan of the duteous mind.
In needs unlike his giant kind:
Dúshan and Khara, brave and bold
Whose fame by every tongue is told:
Their might by mine is far surpassed;
But when, O best of men, I cast
These fond eyes on thy form, I see
My chosen love and lord in thee.
Endowed with wondrous might am I:
Where'er my fancy leads I fly.
The poor misshapen Sitá leave,
And me, thy worthier bride receive.
Look on my beauty, and prefer
A spouse more meet than one like her:
I'll eat that ill-formed woman there:
Thy brother too her fate shall share.
But come, beloved, thou shalt roam
With me through all our woodland home;
Each varied grove with me shalt seek,
And gaze upon each mountain peak.'
As thus she spoke, the monster gazed
With sparkling eyes where passion blazed:
Then he, in lore of language learned,
This answer eloquent returned:

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

3.16.24

tataḥ parvataśṛṅgāṇi vanāni vividhāni ca
paśyan saha mayā kānta daṇḍakān vicariṣyasi

'King Das'aratha reigned of old,
Like Gods celestial brave and bold.
I am his eldest son and heir,
And Ráma is the name I bear.
This brother, Lakshman, younger born,
Most faithful love to me has sworn.
My wife, this princess, dear to fame,
Is Sitá the Videhan dame.
Obedient to my sire's behest
And by the queen my mother pressed,
To keep the law and merit win,
I sought this wood to harbour in.
But speak, for I of thee in turn
Thy name, and race, and sire would learn.
Thou art of giant race, I ween.
Changing at will thy form and mien.
Speak truly, and the cause declare
That bids thee to these shades repair.'
Thus Ráma spoke: the demon heard,
And thus replied by passion spurred:
'Of giant race, what form soe'er
My fancy wills, 'tis mine to wear.
Named S'úrpanakhá here I stray,
And where I walk spread wild dismay.
King Rávan is my brother: fame
Has taught perchance his dreaded name,
Strong Kumbhakama slumbering deep
In chains of never-ending sleep:
Vibhíshan of the duteous mind.
In needs unlike his giant kind:
Dúshan and Khara, brave and bold
Whose fame by every tongue is told:
Their might by mine is far surpassed;
But when, O best of men, I cast
These fond eyes on thy form, I see
My chosen love and lord in thee.
Endowed with wondrous might am I:
Where'er my fancy leads I fly.
The poor misshapen Sitá leave,
And me, thy worthier bride receive.
Look on my beauty, and prefer
A spouse more meet than one like her:
I'll eat that ill-formed woman there:
Thy brother too her fate shall share.
But come, beloved, thou shalt roam
With me through all our woodland home;
Each varied grove with me shalt seek,
And gaze upon each mountain peak.'
As thus she spoke, the monster gazed
With sparkling eyes where passion blazed:
Then he, in lore of language learned,
This answer eloquent returned:

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

3.16.25

ity evam uktaḥ kākutsthaḥ prahasya madirekṣaṇām
idaṃ vacanam ārebhe vaktuṃ vākyaviśāradaḥ

'King Das'aratha reigned of old,
Like Gods celestial brave and bold.
I am his eldest son and heir,
And Ráma is the name I bear.
This brother, Lakshman, younger born,
Most faithful love to me has sworn.
My wife, this princess, dear to fame,
Is Sitá the Videhan dame.
Obedient to my sire's behest
And by the queen my mother pressed,
To keep the law and merit win,
I sought this wood to harbour in.
But speak, for I of thee in turn
Thy name, and race, and sire would learn.
Thou art of giant race, I ween.
Changing at will thy form and mien.
Speak truly, and the cause declare
That bids thee to these shades repair.'
Thus Ráma spoke: the demon heard,
And thus replied by passion spurred:
'Of giant race, what form soe'er
My fancy wills, 'tis mine to wear.
Named S'úrpanakhá here I stray,
And where I walk spread wild dismay.
King Rávan is my brother: fame
Has taught perchance his dreaded name,
Strong Kumbhakama slumbering deep
In chains of never-ending sleep:
Vibhíshan of the duteous mind.
In needs unlike his giant kind:
Dúshan and Khara, brave and bold
Whose fame by every tongue is told:
Their might by mine is far surpassed;
But when, O best of men, I cast
These fond eyes on thy form, I see
My chosen love and lord in thee.
Endowed with wondrous might am I:
Where'er my fancy leads I fly.
The poor misshapen Sitá leave,
And me, thy worthier bride receive.
Look on my beauty, and prefer
A spouse more meet than one like her:
I'll eat that ill-formed woman there:
Thy brother too her fate shall share.
But come, beloved, thou shalt roam
With me through all our woodland home;
Each varied grove with me shalt seek,
And gaze upon each mountain peak.'
As thus she spoke, the monster gazed
With sparkling eyes where passion blazed:
Then he, in lore of language learned,
This answer eloquent returned:

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

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