Valmiki Ramayana 4.11

4.11.1

rāmasya vacanaṃ śrutvā harṣapauruṣavardhanam
sugrīvaḥ pūjayāṃ cakre rāghavaṃ praśaśaṃsa ca

'I doubt not, Prince, thy peerless might,
Armed with these shafts so keen and bright,
Like all-destroying fires of fate,
The worlds could burn and devastate.
But lend thou first thy mind and ear
Of Báli's power and might to hear.
How bold, how firm, in battle tried,
Is Báli's heart; and then decide.
From east to west, from south to north
On restless errand hunting forth,

4.11.2

asaṃśayaṃ prajvalitais tīkṣṇair marmātigaiḥ śaraiḥ
tvaṃ daheḥ kupito lokān yugānta iva bhāskaraḥ

'I doubt not, Prince, thy peerless might,
Armed with these shafts so keen and bright,
Like all-destroying fires of fate,
The worlds could burn and devastate.
But lend thou first thy mind and ear
Of Báli's power and might to hear.
How bold, how firm, in battle tried,
Is Báli's heart; and then decide.
From east to west, from south to north
On restless errand hunting forth,

4.11.3

vālinaḥ pauruṣaṃ yat tad yac ca vīryaṃ dhṛtiś ca yā
tan mamaikamanāḥ śrutvā vidhatsva yadanantaram

'I doubt not, Prince, thy peerless might,
Armed with these shafts so keen and bright,
Like all-destroying fires of fate,
The worlds could burn and devastate.
But lend thou first thy mind and ear
Of Báli's power and might to hear.
How bold, how firm, in battle tried,
Is Báli's heart; and then decide.
From east to west, from south to north
On restless errand hunting forth,

4.11.4

samudrāt paścimāt pūrvaṃ dakṣiṇād api cottaram
krāmaty anudite sūrye vālī vyapagataklamaḥ

'I doubt not, Prince, thy peerless might,
Armed with these shafts so keen and bright,
Like all-destroying fires of fate,
The worlds could burn and devastate.
But lend thou first thy mind and ear
Of Báli's power and might to hear.
How bold, how firm, in battle tried,
Is Báli's heart; and then decide.
From east to west, from south to north
On restless errand hunting forth,

From farthest sea to sea he flies
Before the sun has lit the skies.
A mountain top he oft will seek.
Tear from its root a towering peak.
Hurl it aloft, as 'twere a ball,
And catch it ere to earth it fall.
And many a tree that long has stood
In health and vigour in the wood,
His single arm to earth will throw,
The marvels of his might to show.
Shaped like a bull, a monster bore
The name of Dundubhi of yore:
He matched in size a mountain height,
A thousand elephants in might.
By pride of wondrous gifts impelled,
And strength he deemed unparalleled,
To Ocean, lord of stream and brook,
Athirst for war, his way he took.
He reached the king of rolling waves
Whose gems are piled in sunless caves,
And threw his challenge to the sea;
'Come forth, O King, and fight with me.'
He spoke, and from his ocean bed
The righteous monarch heaved his head,
And gave, sedate, his calm reply
To him whom fate impelled to die:
'Not mine, not mine the power,' he cried,
'To cope with thee in battle tried;
But listen to my voice, and seek
The worthier foe of whom I speak.
The Lord of Hills, where hermits live
And love the home his forests give,
Whose child is S'ankar's darling queen,
The King of Snows is he I mean.
Deep caves has he, and dark boughs shade
The torrent and the wild cascade.
From him expect the fierce delight
Which heroes feel in equal fight.'
He deemed that fear checked ocean's king,
And, like an arrow from the string,
To the wild woods that clothe the side
Of Lord Himálaya's hills he hied.
Then Dundubhi, with hideous roar.
Huge fragments from the summit tore
Vast as Airávat, white with snow,
And hurled them to the plains below.
Then like a white cloud soft, serene.
The Lord of Mountains' form was seen.
It sat upon a lofty crest.
And thus the furious fiend addressed:
'Beseems thee not, O virtue's friend,
My mountain tops to rive and rend;

4.11.5

agrāṇy āruhya śailānāṃ śikharāṇi mahānty api
ūrdhvam utkṣipya tarasā pratigṛhṇāti vīryavān

From farthest sea to sea he flies
Before the sun has lit the skies.
A mountain top he oft will seek.
Tear from its root a towering peak.
Hurl it aloft, as 'twere a ball,
And catch it ere to earth it fall.
And many a tree that long has stood
In health and vigour in the wood,
His single arm to earth will throw,
The marvels of his might to show.
Shaped like a bull, a monster bore
The name of Dundubhi of yore:
He matched in size a mountain height,
A thousand elephants in might.
By pride of wondrous gifts impelled,
And strength he deemed unparalleled,
To Ocean, lord of stream and brook,
Athirst for war, his way he took.
He reached the king of rolling waves
Whose gems are piled in sunless caves,
And threw his challenge to the sea;
'Come forth, O King, and fight with me.'
He spoke, and from his ocean bed
The righteous monarch heaved his head,
And gave, sedate, his calm reply
To him whom fate impelled to die:
'Not mine, not mine the power,' he cried,
'To cope with thee in battle tried;
But listen to my voice, and seek
The worthier foe of whom I speak.
The Lord of Hills, where hermits live
And love the home his forests give,
Whose child is S'ankar's darling queen,
The King of Snows is he I mean.
Deep caves has he, and dark boughs shade
The torrent and the wild cascade.
From him expect the fierce delight
Which heroes feel in equal fight.'
He deemed that fear checked ocean's king,
And, like an arrow from the string,
To the wild woods that clothe the side
Of Lord Himálaya's hills he hied.
Then Dundubhi, with hideous roar.
Huge fragments from the summit tore
Vast as Airávat, white with snow,
And hurled them to the plains below.
Then like a white cloud soft, serene.
The Lord of Mountains' form was seen.
It sat upon a lofty crest.
And thus the furious fiend addressed:
'Beseems thee not, O virtue's friend,
My mountain tops to rive and rend;

4.11.6

bahavaḥ sāravantaś ca vaneṣu vividhā drumāḥ
vālinā tarasā bhagnā balaṃ prathayatātmanaḥ

From farthest sea to sea he flies
Before the sun has lit the skies.
A mountain top he oft will seek.
Tear from its root a towering peak.
Hurl it aloft, as 'twere a ball,
And catch it ere to earth it fall.
And many a tree that long has stood
In health and vigour in the wood,
His single arm to earth will throw,
The marvels of his might to show.
Shaped like a bull, a monster bore
The name of Dundubhi of yore:
He matched in size a mountain height,
A thousand elephants in might.
By pride of wondrous gifts impelled,
And strength he deemed unparalleled,
To Ocean, lord of stream and brook,
Athirst for war, his way he took.
He reached the king of rolling waves
Whose gems are piled in sunless caves,
And threw his challenge to the sea;
'Come forth, O King, and fight with me.'
He spoke, and from his ocean bed
The righteous monarch heaved his head,
And gave, sedate, his calm reply
To him whom fate impelled to die:
'Not mine, not mine the power,' he cried,
'To cope with thee in battle tried;
But listen to my voice, and seek
The worthier foe of whom I speak.
The Lord of Hills, where hermits live
And love the home his forests give,
Whose child is S'ankar's darling queen,
The King of Snows is he I mean.
Deep caves has he, and dark boughs shade
The torrent and the wild cascade.
From him expect the fierce delight
Which heroes feel in equal fight.'
He deemed that fear checked ocean's king,
And, like an arrow from the string,
To the wild woods that clothe the side
Of Lord Himálaya's hills he hied.
Then Dundubhi, with hideous roar.
Huge fragments from the summit tore
Vast as Airávat, white with snow,
And hurled them to the plains below.
Then like a white cloud soft, serene.
The Lord of Mountains' form was seen.
It sat upon a lofty crest.
And thus the furious fiend addressed:
'Beseems thee not, O virtue's friend,
My mountain tops to rive and rend;

4.11.7

mahiṣo dundubhir nāma kailāsaśikharaprabhaḥ
balaṃ nāgasahasrasya dhārayām āsa vīryavān

From farthest sea to sea he flies
Before the sun has lit the skies.
A mountain top he oft will seek.
Tear from its root a towering peak.
Hurl it aloft, as 'twere a ball,
And catch it ere to earth it fall.
And many a tree that long has stood
In health and vigour in the wood,
His single arm to earth will throw,
The marvels of his might to show.
Shaped like a bull, a monster bore
The name of Dundubhi of yore:
He matched in size a mountain height,
A thousand elephants in might.
By pride of wondrous gifts impelled,
And strength he deemed unparalleled,
To Ocean, lord of stream and brook,
Athirst for war, his way he took.
He reached the king of rolling waves
Whose gems are piled in sunless caves,
And threw his challenge to the sea;
'Come forth, O King, and fight with me.'
He spoke, and from his ocean bed
The righteous monarch heaved his head,
And gave, sedate, his calm reply
To him whom fate impelled to die:
'Not mine, not mine the power,' he cried,
'To cope with thee in battle tried;
But listen to my voice, and seek
The worthier foe of whom I speak.
The Lord of Hills, where hermits live
And love the home his forests give,
Whose child is S'ankar's darling queen,
The King of Snows is he I mean.
Deep caves has he, and dark boughs shade
The torrent and the wild cascade.
From him expect the fierce delight
Which heroes feel in equal fight.'
He deemed that fear checked ocean's king,
And, like an arrow from the string,
To the wild woods that clothe the side
Of Lord Himálaya's hills he hied.
Then Dundubhi, with hideous roar.
Huge fragments from the summit tore
Vast as Airávat, white with snow,
And hurled them to the plains below.
Then like a white cloud soft, serene.
The Lord of Mountains' form was seen.
It sat upon a lofty crest.
And thus the furious fiend addressed:
'Beseems thee not, O virtue's friend,
My mountain tops to rive and rend;

4.11.8

vīryotsekena duṣṭātmā varadānāc ca mohitaḥ
jagāma sa mahākāyaḥ samudraṃ saritāṃ patim

From farthest sea to sea he flies
Before the sun has lit the skies.
A mountain top he oft will seek.
Tear from its root a towering peak.
Hurl it aloft, as 'twere a ball,
And catch it ere to earth it fall.
And many a tree that long has stood
In health and vigour in the wood,
His single arm to earth will throw,
The marvels of his might to show.
Shaped like a bull, a monster bore
The name of Dundubhi of yore:
He matched in size a mountain height,
A thousand elephants in might.
By pride of wondrous gifts impelled,
And strength he deemed unparalleled,
To Ocean, lord of stream and brook,
Athirst for war, his way he took.
He reached the king of rolling waves
Whose gems are piled in sunless caves,
And threw his challenge to the sea;
'Come forth, O King, and fight with me.'
He spoke, and from his ocean bed
The righteous monarch heaved his head,
And gave, sedate, his calm reply
To him whom fate impelled to die:
'Not mine, not mine the power,' he cried,
'To cope with thee in battle tried;
But listen to my voice, and seek
The worthier foe of whom I speak.
The Lord of Hills, where hermits live
And love the home his forests give,
Whose child is S'ankar's darling queen,
The King of Snows is he I mean.
Deep caves has he, and dark boughs shade
The torrent and the wild cascade.
From him expect the fierce delight
Which heroes feel in equal fight.'
He deemed that fear checked ocean's king,
And, like an arrow from the string,
To the wild woods that clothe the side
Of Lord Himálaya's hills he hied.
Then Dundubhi, with hideous roar.
Huge fragments from the summit tore
Vast as Airávat, white with snow,
And hurled them to the plains below.
Then like a white cloud soft, serene.
The Lord of Mountains' form was seen.
It sat upon a lofty crest.
And thus the furious fiend addressed:
'Beseems thee not, O virtue's friend,
My mountain tops to rive and rend;

4.11.9

ūrmimantam atikramya sāgaraṃ ratnasaṃcayam
mama yuddhaṃ prayaccheti tam uvāca mahārṇavam

From farthest sea to sea he flies
Before the sun has lit the skies.
A mountain top he oft will seek.
Tear from its root a towering peak.
Hurl it aloft, as 'twere a ball,
And catch it ere to earth it fall.
And many a tree that long has stood
In health and vigour in the wood,
His single arm to earth will throw,
The marvels of his might to show.
Shaped like a bull, a monster bore
The name of Dundubhi of yore:
He matched in size a mountain height,
A thousand elephants in might.
By pride of wondrous gifts impelled,
And strength he deemed unparalleled,
To Ocean, lord of stream and brook,
Athirst for war, his way he took.
He reached the king of rolling waves
Whose gems are piled in sunless caves,
And threw his challenge to the sea;
'Come forth, O King, and fight with me.'
He spoke, and from his ocean bed
The righteous monarch heaved his head,
And gave, sedate, his calm reply
To him whom fate impelled to die:
'Not mine, not mine the power,' he cried,
'To cope with thee in battle tried;
But listen to my voice, and seek
The worthier foe of whom I speak.
The Lord of Hills, where hermits live
And love the home his forests give,
Whose child is S'ankar's darling queen,
The King of Snows is he I mean.
Deep caves has he, and dark boughs shade
The torrent and the wild cascade.
From him expect the fierce delight
Which heroes feel in equal fight.'
He deemed that fear checked ocean's king,
And, like an arrow from the string,
To the wild woods that clothe the side
Of Lord Himálaya's hills he hied.
Then Dundubhi, with hideous roar.
Huge fragments from the summit tore
Vast as Airávat, white with snow,
And hurled them to the plains below.
Then like a white cloud soft, serene.
The Lord of Mountains' form was seen.
It sat upon a lofty crest.
And thus the furious fiend addressed:
'Beseems thee not, O virtue's friend,
My mountain tops to rive and rend;

4.11.10

tataḥ samudro dharmātmā samutthāya mahābalaḥ
abravīd vacanaṃ rājann asuraṃ kālacoditam

From farthest sea to sea he flies
Before the sun has lit the skies.
A mountain top he oft will seek.
Tear from its root a towering peak.
Hurl it aloft, as 'twere a ball,
And catch it ere to earth it fall.
And many a tree that long has stood
In health and vigour in the wood,
His single arm to earth will throw,
The marvels of his might to show.
Shaped like a bull, a monster bore
The name of Dundubhi of yore:
He matched in size a mountain height,
A thousand elephants in might.
By pride of wondrous gifts impelled,
And strength he deemed unparalleled,
To Ocean, lord of stream and brook,
Athirst for war, his way he took.
He reached the king of rolling waves
Whose gems are piled in sunless caves,
And threw his challenge to the sea;
'Come forth, O King, and fight with me.'
He spoke, and from his ocean bed
The righteous monarch heaved his head,
And gave, sedate, his calm reply
To him whom fate impelled to die:
'Not mine, not mine the power,' he cried,
'To cope with thee in battle tried;
But listen to my voice, and seek
The worthier foe of whom I speak.
The Lord of Hills, where hermits live
And love the home his forests give,
Whose child is S'ankar's darling queen,
The King of Snows is he I mean.
Deep caves has he, and dark boughs shade
The torrent and the wild cascade.
From him expect the fierce delight
Which heroes feel in equal fight.'
He deemed that fear checked ocean's king,
And, like an arrow from the string,
To the wild woods that clothe the side
Of Lord Himálaya's hills he hied.
Then Dundubhi, with hideous roar.
Huge fragments from the summit tore
Vast as Airávat, white with snow,
And hurled them to the plains below.
Then like a white cloud soft, serene.
The Lord of Mountains' form was seen.
It sat upon a lofty crest.
And thus the furious fiend addressed:
'Beseems thee not, O virtue's friend,
My mountain tops to rive and rend;

4.11.11

samartho nāsmi te dātuṃ yuddhaṃ yuddhaviśārada
śrūyatām abhidhāsyāmi yas te yuddhaṃ pradāsyati

From farthest sea to sea he flies
Before the sun has lit the skies.
A mountain top he oft will seek.
Tear from its root a towering peak.
Hurl it aloft, as 'twere a ball,
And catch it ere to earth it fall.
And many a tree that long has stood
In health and vigour in the wood,
His single arm to earth will throw,
The marvels of his might to show.
Shaped like a bull, a monster bore
The name of Dundubhi of yore:
He matched in size a mountain height,
A thousand elephants in might.
By pride of wondrous gifts impelled,
And strength he deemed unparalleled,
To Ocean, lord of stream and brook,
Athirst for war, his way he took.
He reached the king of rolling waves
Whose gems are piled in sunless caves,
And threw his challenge to the sea;
'Come forth, O King, and fight with me.'
He spoke, and from his ocean bed
The righteous monarch heaved his head,
And gave, sedate, his calm reply
To him whom fate impelled to die:
'Not mine, not mine the power,' he cried,
'To cope with thee in battle tried;
But listen to my voice, and seek
The worthier foe of whom I speak.
The Lord of Hills, where hermits live
And love the home his forests give,
Whose child is S'ankar's darling queen,
The King of Snows is he I mean.
Deep caves has he, and dark boughs shade
The torrent and the wild cascade.
From him expect the fierce delight
Which heroes feel in equal fight.'
He deemed that fear checked ocean's king,
And, like an arrow from the string,
To the wild woods that clothe the side
Of Lord Himálaya's hills he hied.
Then Dundubhi, with hideous roar.
Huge fragments from the summit tore
Vast as Airávat, white with snow,
And hurled them to the plains below.
Then like a white cloud soft, serene.
The Lord of Mountains' form was seen.
It sat upon a lofty crest.
And thus the furious fiend addressed:
'Beseems thee not, O virtue's friend,
My mountain tops to rive and rend;

4.11.12

śailarājo mahāraṇye tapasviśaraṇaṃ param
śaṃkaraśvaśuro nāmnā himavān iti viśrutaḥ

From farthest sea to sea he flies
Before the sun has lit the skies.
A mountain top he oft will seek.
Tear from its root a towering peak.
Hurl it aloft, as 'twere a ball,
And catch it ere to earth it fall.
And many a tree that long has stood
In health and vigour in the wood,
His single arm to earth will throw,
The marvels of his might to show.
Shaped like a bull, a monster bore
The name of Dundubhi of yore:
He matched in size a mountain height,
A thousand elephants in might.
By pride of wondrous gifts impelled,
And strength he deemed unparalleled,
To Ocean, lord of stream and brook,
Athirst for war, his way he took.
He reached the king of rolling waves
Whose gems are piled in sunless caves,
And threw his challenge to the sea;
'Come forth, O King, and fight with me.'
He spoke, and from his ocean bed
The righteous monarch heaved his head,
And gave, sedate, his calm reply
To him whom fate impelled to die:
'Not mine, not mine the power,' he cried,
'To cope with thee in battle tried;
But listen to my voice, and seek
The worthier foe of whom I speak.
The Lord of Hills, where hermits live
And love the home his forests give,
Whose child is S'ankar's darling queen,
The King of Snows is he I mean.
Deep caves has he, and dark boughs shade
The torrent and the wild cascade.
From him expect the fierce delight
Which heroes feel in equal fight.'
He deemed that fear checked ocean's king,
And, like an arrow from the string,
To the wild woods that clothe the side
Of Lord Himálaya's hills he hied.
Then Dundubhi, with hideous roar.
Huge fragments from the summit tore
Vast as Airávat, white with snow,
And hurled them to the plains below.
Then like a white cloud soft, serene.
The Lord of Mountains' form was seen.
It sat upon a lofty crest.
And thus the furious fiend addressed:
'Beseems thee not, O virtue's friend,
My mountain tops to rive and rend;

4.11.13

guhā prasravaṇopeto bahukandaranirjharaḥ
sa samarthas tava prītim atulāṃ kartum āhave

From farthest sea to sea he flies
Before the sun has lit the skies.
A mountain top he oft will seek.
Tear from its root a towering peak.
Hurl it aloft, as 'twere a ball,
And catch it ere to earth it fall.
And many a tree that long has stood
In health and vigour in the wood,
His single arm to earth will throw,
The marvels of his might to show.
Shaped like a bull, a monster bore
The name of Dundubhi of yore:
He matched in size a mountain height,
A thousand elephants in might.
By pride of wondrous gifts impelled,
And strength he deemed unparalleled,
To Ocean, lord of stream and brook,
Athirst for war, his way he took.
He reached the king of rolling waves
Whose gems are piled in sunless caves,
And threw his challenge to the sea;
'Come forth, O King, and fight with me.'
He spoke, and from his ocean bed
The righteous monarch heaved his head,
And gave, sedate, his calm reply
To him whom fate impelled to die:
'Not mine, not mine the power,' he cried,
'To cope with thee in battle tried;
But listen to my voice, and seek
The worthier foe of whom I speak.
The Lord of Hills, where hermits live
And love the home his forests give,
Whose child is S'ankar's darling queen,
The King of Snows is he I mean.
Deep caves has he, and dark boughs shade
The torrent and the wild cascade.
From him expect the fierce delight
Which heroes feel in equal fight.'
He deemed that fear checked ocean's king,
And, like an arrow from the string,
To the wild woods that clothe the side
Of Lord Himálaya's hills he hied.
Then Dundubhi, with hideous roar.
Huge fragments from the summit tore
Vast as Airávat, white with snow,
And hurled them to the plains below.
Then like a white cloud soft, serene.
The Lord of Mountains' form was seen.
It sat upon a lofty crest.
And thus the furious fiend addressed:
'Beseems thee not, O virtue's friend,
My mountain tops to rive and rend;

4.11.14

taṃ bhītam iti vijñāya samudram asurottamaḥ
himavadvanam āgacchac charaś cāpād iva cyutaḥ

From farthest sea to sea he flies
Before the sun has lit the skies.
A mountain top he oft will seek.
Tear from its root a towering peak.
Hurl it aloft, as 'twere a ball,
And catch it ere to earth it fall.
And many a tree that long has stood
In health and vigour in the wood,
His single arm to earth will throw,
The marvels of his might to show.
Shaped like a bull, a monster bore
The name of Dundubhi of yore:
He matched in size a mountain height,
A thousand elephants in might.
By pride of wondrous gifts impelled,
And strength he deemed unparalleled,
To Ocean, lord of stream and brook,
Athirst for war, his way he took.
He reached the king of rolling waves
Whose gems are piled in sunless caves,
And threw his challenge to the sea;
'Come forth, O King, and fight with me.'
He spoke, and from his ocean bed
The righteous monarch heaved his head,
And gave, sedate, his calm reply
To him whom fate impelled to die:
'Not mine, not mine the power,' he cried,
'To cope with thee in battle tried;
But listen to my voice, and seek
The worthier foe of whom I speak.
The Lord of Hills, where hermits live
And love the home his forests give,
Whose child is S'ankar's darling queen,
The King of Snows is he I mean.
Deep caves has he, and dark boughs shade
The torrent and the wild cascade.
From him expect the fierce delight
Which heroes feel in equal fight.'
He deemed that fear checked ocean's king,
And, like an arrow from the string,
To the wild woods that clothe the side
Of Lord Himálaya's hills he hied.
Then Dundubhi, with hideous roar.
Huge fragments from the summit tore
Vast as Airávat, white with snow,
And hurled them to the plains below.
Then like a white cloud soft, serene.
The Lord of Mountains' form was seen.
It sat upon a lofty crest.
And thus the furious fiend addressed:
'Beseems thee not, O virtue's friend,
My mountain tops to rive and rend;

4.11.15

tatas tasya gireḥ śvetā gajendravipulāḥ śilāḥ
cikṣepa bahudhā bhūmau dundubhir vinanāda ca

From farthest sea to sea he flies
Before the sun has lit the skies.
A mountain top he oft will seek.
Tear from its root a towering peak.
Hurl it aloft, as 'twere a ball,
And catch it ere to earth it fall.
And many a tree that long has stood
In health and vigour in the wood,
His single arm to earth will throw,
The marvels of his might to show.
Shaped like a bull, a monster bore
The name of Dundubhi of yore:
He matched in size a mountain height,
A thousand elephants in might.
By pride of wondrous gifts impelled,
And strength he deemed unparalleled,
To Ocean, lord of stream and brook,
Athirst for war, his way he took.
He reached the king of rolling waves
Whose gems are piled in sunless caves,
And threw his challenge to the sea;
'Come forth, O King, and fight with me.'
He spoke, and from his ocean bed
The righteous monarch heaved his head,
And gave, sedate, his calm reply
To him whom fate impelled to die:
'Not mine, not mine the power,' he cried,
'To cope with thee in battle tried;
But listen to my voice, and seek
The worthier foe of whom I speak.
The Lord of Hills, where hermits live
And love the home his forests give,
Whose child is S'ankar's darling queen,
The King of Snows is he I mean.
Deep caves has he, and dark boughs shade
The torrent and the wild cascade.
From him expect the fierce delight
Which heroes feel in equal fight.'
He deemed that fear checked ocean's king,
And, like an arrow from the string,
To the wild woods that clothe the side
Of Lord Himálaya's hills he hied.
Then Dundubhi, with hideous roar.
Huge fragments from the summit tore
Vast as Airávat, white with snow,
And hurled them to the plains below.
Then like a white cloud soft, serene.
The Lord of Mountains' form was seen.
It sat upon a lofty crest.
And thus the furious fiend addressed:
'Beseems thee not, O virtue's friend,
My mountain tops to rive and rend;

4.11.16

tataḥ śvetāmbudākāraḥ saumyaḥ prītikarākṛtiḥ
himavān abravīd vākyaṃ sva eva śikhare sthitaḥ

From farthest sea to sea he flies
Before the sun has lit the skies.
A mountain top he oft will seek.
Tear from its root a towering peak.
Hurl it aloft, as 'twere a ball,
And catch it ere to earth it fall.
And many a tree that long has stood
In health and vigour in the wood,
His single arm to earth will throw,
The marvels of his might to show.
Shaped like a bull, a monster bore
The name of Dundubhi of yore:
He matched in size a mountain height,
A thousand elephants in might.
By pride of wondrous gifts impelled,
And strength he deemed unparalleled,
To Ocean, lord of stream and brook,
Athirst for war, his way he took.
He reached the king of rolling waves
Whose gems are piled in sunless caves,
And threw his challenge to the sea;
'Come forth, O King, and fight with me.'
He spoke, and from his ocean bed
The righteous monarch heaved his head,
And gave, sedate, his calm reply
To him whom fate impelled to die:
'Not mine, not mine the power,' he cried,
'To cope with thee in battle tried;
But listen to my voice, and seek
The worthier foe of whom I speak.
The Lord of Hills, where hermits live
And love the home his forests give,
Whose child is S'ankar's darling queen,
The King of Snows is he I mean.
Deep caves has he, and dark boughs shade
The torrent and the wild cascade.
From him expect the fierce delight
Which heroes feel in equal fight.'
He deemed that fear checked ocean's king,
And, like an arrow from the string,
To the wild woods that clothe the side
Of Lord Himálaya's hills he hied.
Then Dundubhi, with hideous roar.
Huge fragments from the summit tore
Vast as Airávat, white with snow,
And hurled them to the plains below.
Then like a white cloud soft, serene.
The Lord of Mountains' form was seen.
It sat upon a lofty crest.
And thus the furious fiend addressed:
'Beseems thee not, O virtue's friend,
My mountain tops to rive and rend;

4.11.17

kleṣṭum arhasi māṃ na tvaṃ dundubhe dharmavatsala
raṇakarmasv akuśalas tapasviśaraṇaṃ hy aham

For I, the hermit's calm retreat,
For deeds of war am all unmeet,'
The demon's eye with rage grew red,
And thus in furious tone he said:
'If thou from fear or sloth decline
To match thy strength in war with mine,
Where shall I find a champion, say,
To meet me burning for the fray?'
He spoke: Himálaya, skilled in lore
Of eloquence, replied once more,
And, angered in his righteous mind,
Addressed the chief of demon kind:
'The Vánar Báli, brave and wise,
Son of the God who rules the sides,
Sways, glorious in his high renown,
Kishkindhá his imperial town.
Well may that valiant lord who knows
Each art of war his might oppose
To thine, in equal battle set,
As Namuehi and Indra met.
Go, if thy soul desire the fray;
To Báli's city speed away,
And that uoconquered hero meet
Whose fame is high for warlike feat.'
He listened to the Lord of Snow,
And, his proud heart with rage aglow,
Sped swift away and lighted down
By vast Kishkindhá, Báli's town.
With pointed horns to strike and gore
The semblance of a bull he bore,
Huge as a cloud that downward bends
Ere the full flood of rain descends.
Impelled by pride and rage and hate,
He thundered at Kishkindhá's gate;
And with his bellowing, like the sound
Of pealing drums, he shook the ground,
He rent the earth and prostrate threw
The trees that near the portal grew.
King Báli from the bowers within
Indignant heard the roar and din.
Then, moonlike mid the stars, with all
His dames he hurried to the wall;
And to the fiend this speech, expressed
In clear and measured words, addressed:
'Know me for monarch. Báli styled,
Of Vánar tribes that roam the wild.
Say why dost thou this gate molest,
And bellowing thus disturb our rest?
I know thee, mighty fiend: beware
And guard thy life with wiser care.'
He spoke: and thus the fiend returned,
While red with rage his eyeballs burned:
'What! speak when all thy dames are nigh
And hero-like thy foe defy?

From farthest sea to sea he flies
Before the sun has lit the skies.
A mountain top he oft will seek.
Tear from its root a towering peak.
Hurl it aloft, as 'twere a ball,
And catch it ere to earth it fall.
And many a tree that long has stood
In health and vigour in the wood,
His single arm to earth will throw,
The marvels of his might to show.
Shaped like a bull, a monster bore
The name of Dundubhi of yore:
He matched in size a mountain height,
A thousand elephants in might.
By pride of wondrous gifts impelled,
And strength he deemed unparalleled,
To Ocean, lord of stream and brook,
Athirst for war, his way he took.
He reached the king of rolling waves
Whose gems are piled in sunless caves,
And threw his challenge to the sea;
'Come forth, O King, and fight with me.'
He spoke, and from his ocean bed
The righteous monarch heaved his head,
And gave, sedate, his calm reply
To him whom fate impelled to die:
'Not mine, not mine the power,' he cried,
'To cope with thee in battle tried;
But listen to my voice, and seek
The worthier foe of whom I speak.
The Lord of Hills, where hermits live
And love the home his forests give,
Whose child is S'ankar's darling queen,
The King of Snows is he I mean.
Deep caves has he, and dark boughs shade
The torrent and the wild cascade.
From him expect the fierce delight
Which heroes feel in equal fight.'
He deemed that fear checked ocean's king,
And, like an arrow from the string,
To the wild woods that clothe the side
Of Lord Himálaya's hills he hied.
Then Dundubhi, with hideous roar.
Huge fragments from the summit tore
Vast as Airávat, white with snow,
And hurled them to the plains below.
Then like a white cloud soft, serene.
The Lord of Mountains' form was seen.
It sat upon a lofty crest.
And thus the furious fiend addressed:
'Beseems thee not, O virtue's friend,
My mountain tops to rive and rend;

4.11.18

tasya tad vacanaṃ śrutvā girirājasya dhīmataḥ
uvāca dundubhir vākyaṃ krodhāt saṃraktalocanaḥ

For I, the hermit's calm retreat,
For deeds of war am all unmeet,'
The demon's eye with rage grew red,
And thus in furious tone he said:
'If thou from fear or sloth decline
To match thy strength in war with mine,
Where shall I find a champion, say,
To meet me burning for the fray?'
He spoke: Himálaya, skilled in lore
Of eloquence, replied once more,
And, angered in his righteous mind,
Addressed the chief of demon kind:
'The Vánar Báli, brave and wise,
Son of the God who rules the sides,
Sways, glorious in his high renown,
Kishkindhá his imperial town.
Well may that valiant lord who knows
Each art of war his might oppose
To thine, in equal battle set,
As Namuehi and Indra met.
Go, if thy soul desire the fray;
To Báli's city speed away,
And that uoconquered hero meet
Whose fame is high for warlike feat.'
He listened to the Lord of Snow,
And, his proud heart with rage aglow,
Sped swift away and lighted down
By vast Kishkindhá, Báli's town.
With pointed horns to strike and gore
The semblance of a bull he bore,
Huge as a cloud that downward bends
Ere the full flood of rain descends.
Impelled by pride and rage and hate,
He thundered at Kishkindhá's gate;
And with his bellowing, like the sound
Of pealing drums, he shook the ground,
He rent the earth and prostrate threw
The trees that near the portal grew.
King Báli from the bowers within
Indignant heard the roar and din.
Then, moonlike mid the stars, with all
His dames he hurried to the wall;
And to the fiend this speech, expressed
In clear and measured words, addressed:
'Know me for monarch. Báli styled,
Of Vánar tribes that roam the wild.
Say why dost thou this gate molest,
And bellowing thus disturb our rest?
I know thee, mighty fiend: beware
And guard thy life with wiser care.'
He spoke: and thus the fiend returned,
While red with rage his eyeballs burned:
'What! speak when all thy dames are nigh
And hero-like thy foe defy?

4.11.19

yadi yuddhe 'samarthas tvaṃ madbhayād vā nirudyamaḥ
tam ācakṣva pradadyān me yo 'dya yuddhaṃ yuyutsataḥ

For I, the hermit's calm retreat,
For deeds of war am all unmeet,'
The demon's eye with rage grew red,
And thus in furious tone he said:
'If thou from fear or sloth decline
To match thy strength in war with mine,
Where shall I find a champion, say,
To meet me burning for the fray?'
He spoke: Himálaya, skilled in lore
Of eloquence, replied once more,
And, angered in his righteous mind,
Addressed the chief of demon kind:
'The Vánar Báli, brave and wise,
Son of the God who rules the sides,
Sways, glorious in his high renown,
Kishkindhá his imperial town.
Well may that valiant lord who knows
Each art of war his might oppose
To thine, in equal battle set,
As Namuehi and Indra met.
Go, if thy soul desire the fray;
To Báli's city speed away,
And that uoconquered hero meet
Whose fame is high for warlike feat.'
He listened to the Lord of Snow,
And, his proud heart with rage aglow,
Sped swift away and lighted down
By vast Kishkindhá, Báli's town.
With pointed horns to strike and gore
The semblance of a bull he bore,
Huge as a cloud that downward bends
Ere the full flood of rain descends.
Impelled by pride and rage and hate,
He thundered at Kishkindhá's gate;
And with his bellowing, like the sound
Of pealing drums, he shook the ground,
He rent the earth and prostrate threw
The trees that near the portal grew.
King Báli from the bowers within
Indignant heard the roar and din.
Then, moonlike mid the stars, with all
His dames he hurried to the wall;
And to the fiend this speech, expressed
In clear and measured words, addressed:
'Know me for monarch. Báli styled,
Of Vánar tribes that roam the wild.
Say why dost thou this gate molest,
And bellowing thus disturb our rest?
I know thee, mighty fiend: beware
And guard thy life with wiser care.'
He spoke: and thus the fiend returned,
While red with rage his eyeballs burned:
'What! speak when all thy dames are nigh
And hero-like thy foe defy?

4.11.20

himavān abravīd vākyaṃ śrutvā vākyaviśāradaḥ
anuktapūrvaṃ dharmātmā krodhāt tam asurottamam

For I, the hermit's calm retreat,
For deeds of war am all unmeet,'
The demon's eye with rage grew red,
And thus in furious tone he said:
'If thou from fear or sloth decline
To match thy strength in war with mine,
Where shall I find a champion, say,
To meet me burning for the fray?'
He spoke: Himálaya, skilled in lore
Of eloquence, replied once more,
And, angered in his righteous mind,
Addressed the chief of demon kind:
'The Vánar Báli, brave and wise,
Son of the God who rules the sides,
Sways, glorious in his high renown,
Kishkindhá his imperial town.
Well may that valiant lord who knows
Each art of war his might oppose
To thine, in equal battle set,
As Namuehi and Indra met.
Go, if thy soul desire the fray;
To Báli's city speed away,
And that uoconquered hero meet
Whose fame is high for warlike feat.'
He listened to the Lord of Snow,
And, his proud heart with rage aglow,
Sped swift away and lighted down
By vast Kishkindhá, Báli's town.
With pointed horns to strike and gore
The semblance of a bull he bore,
Huge as a cloud that downward bends
Ere the full flood of rain descends.
Impelled by pride and rage and hate,
He thundered at Kishkindhá's gate;
And with his bellowing, like the sound
Of pealing drums, he shook the ground,
He rent the earth and prostrate threw
The trees that near the portal grew.
King Báli from the bowers within
Indignant heard the roar and din.
Then, moonlike mid the stars, with all
His dames he hurried to the wall;
And to the fiend this speech, expressed
In clear and measured words, addressed:
'Know me for monarch. Báli styled,
Of Vánar tribes that roam the wild.
Say why dost thou this gate molest,
And bellowing thus disturb our rest?
I know thee, mighty fiend: beware
And guard thy life with wiser care.'
He spoke: and thus the fiend returned,
While red with rage his eyeballs burned:
'What! speak when all thy dames are nigh
And hero-like thy foe defy?

4.11.21

vālī nāma mahāprājñaḥ śakratulyaparākramaḥ
adhyāste vānaraḥ śrīmān kiṣkindhām atulaprabhām

For I, the hermit's calm retreat,
For deeds of war am all unmeet,'
The demon's eye with rage grew red,
And thus in furious tone he said:
'If thou from fear or sloth decline
To match thy strength in war with mine,
Where shall I find a champion, say,
To meet me burning for the fray?'
He spoke: Himálaya, skilled in lore
Of eloquence, replied once more,
And, angered in his righteous mind,
Addressed the chief of demon kind:
'The Vánar Báli, brave and wise,
Son of the God who rules the sides,
Sways, glorious in his high renown,
Kishkindhá his imperial town.
Well may that valiant lord who knows
Each art of war his might oppose
To thine, in equal battle set,
As Namuehi and Indra met.
Go, if thy soul desire the fray;
To Báli's city speed away,
And that uoconquered hero meet
Whose fame is high for warlike feat.'
He listened to the Lord of Snow,
And, his proud heart with rage aglow,
Sped swift away and lighted down
By vast Kishkindhá, Báli's town.
With pointed horns to strike and gore
The semblance of a bull he bore,
Huge as a cloud that downward bends
Ere the full flood of rain descends.
Impelled by pride and rage and hate,
He thundered at Kishkindhá's gate;
And with his bellowing, like the sound
Of pealing drums, he shook the ground,
He rent the earth and prostrate threw
The trees that near the portal grew.
King Báli from the bowers within
Indignant heard the roar and din.
Then, moonlike mid the stars, with all
His dames he hurried to the wall;
And to the fiend this speech, expressed
In clear and measured words, addressed:
'Know me for monarch. Báli styled,
Of Vánar tribes that roam the wild.
Say why dost thou this gate molest,
And bellowing thus disturb our rest?
I know thee, mighty fiend: beware
And guard thy life with wiser care.'
He spoke: and thus the fiend returned,
While red with rage his eyeballs burned:
'What! speak when all thy dames are nigh
And hero-like thy foe defy?

4.11.22

sa samartho mahāprājñas tava yuddhaviśāradaḥ
dvandvayuddhaṃ mahad dātuṃ namucer iva vāsavaḥ

For I, the hermit's calm retreat,
For deeds of war am all unmeet,'
The demon's eye with rage grew red,
And thus in furious tone he said:
'If thou from fear or sloth decline
To match thy strength in war with mine,
Where shall I find a champion, say,
To meet me burning for the fray?'
He spoke: Himálaya, skilled in lore
Of eloquence, replied once more,
And, angered in his righteous mind,
Addressed the chief of demon kind:
'The Vánar Báli, brave and wise,
Son of the God who rules the sides,
Sways, glorious in his high renown,
Kishkindhá his imperial town.
Well may that valiant lord who knows
Each art of war his might oppose
To thine, in equal battle set,
As Namuehi and Indra met.
Go, if thy soul desire the fray;
To Báli's city speed away,
And that uoconquered hero meet
Whose fame is high for warlike feat.'
He listened to the Lord of Snow,
And, his proud heart with rage aglow,
Sped swift away and lighted down
By vast Kishkindhá, Báli's town.
With pointed horns to strike and gore
The semblance of a bull he bore,
Huge as a cloud that downward bends
Ere the full flood of rain descends.
Impelled by pride and rage and hate,
He thundered at Kishkindhá's gate;
And with his bellowing, like the sound
Of pealing drums, he shook the ground,
He rent the earth and prostrate threw
The trees that near the portal grew.
King Báli from the bowers within
Indignant heard the roar and din.
Then, moonlike mid the stars, with all
His dames he hurried to the wall;
And to the fiend this speech, expressed
In clear and measured words, addressed:
'Know me for monarch. Báli styled,
Of Vánar tribes that roam the wild.
Say why dost thou this gate molest,
And bellowing thus disturb our rest?
I know thee, mighty fiend: beware
And guard thy life with wiser care.'
He spoke: and thus the fiend returned,
While red with rage his eyeballs burned:
'What! speak when all thy dames are nigh
And hero-like thy foe defy?

4.11.23

taṃ śīghram abhigaccha tvaṃ yadi yuddham ihecchasi
sa hi durdharṣaṇo nityaṃ śūraḥ samarakarmaṇi

For I, the hermit's calm retreat,
For deeds of war am all unmeet,'
The demon's eye with rage grew red,
And thus in furious tone he said:
'If thou from fear or sloth decline
To match thy strength in war with mine,
Where shall I find a champion, say,
To meet me burning for the fray?'
He spoke: Himálaya, skilled in lore
Of eloquence, replied once more,
And, angered in his righteous mind,
Addressed the chief of demon kind:
'The Vánar Báli, brave and wise,
Son of the God who rules the sides,
Sways, glorious in his high renown,
Kishkindhá his imperial town.
Well may that valiant lord who knows
Each art of war his might oppose
To thine, in equal battle set,
As Namuehi and Indra met.
Go, if thy soul desire the fray;
To Báli's city speed away,
And that uoconquered hero meet
Whose fame is high for warlike feat.'
He listened to the Lord of Snow,
And, his proud heart with rage aglow,
Sped swift away and lighted down
By vast Kishkindhá, Báli's town.
With pointed horns to strike and gore
The semblance of a bull he bore,
Huge as a cloud that downward bends
Ere the full flood of rain descends.
Impelled by pride and rage and hate,
He thundered at Kishkindhá's gate;
And with his bellowing, like the sound
Of pealing drums, he shook the ground,
He rent the earth and prostrate threw
The trees that near the portal grew.
King Báli from the bowers within
Indignant heard the roar and din.
Then, moonlike mid the stars, with all
His dames he hurried to the wall;
And to the fiend this speech, expressed
In clear and measured words, addressed:
'Know me for monarch. Báli styled,
Of Vánar tribes that roam the wild.
Say why dost thou this gate molest,
And bellowing thus disturb our rest?
I know thee, mighty fiend: beware
And guard thy life with wiser care.'
He spoke: and thus the fiend returned,
While red with rage his eyeballs burned:
'What! speak when all thy dames are nigh
And hero-like thy foe defy?

4.11.24

śrutvā himavato vākyaṃ krodhāviṣṭaḥ sa dundubhiḥ
jagāma tāṃ purīṃ tasya kiṣkindhāṃ vālinas tadā

For I, the hermit's calm retreat,
For deeds of war am all unmeet,'
The demon's eye with rage grew red,
And thus in furious tone he said:
'If thou from fear or sloth decline
To match thy strength in war with mine,
Where shall I find a champion, say,
To meet me burning for the fray?'
He spoke: Himálaya, skilled in lore
Of eloquence, replied once more,
And, angered in his righteous mind,
Addressed the chief of demon kind:
'The Vánar Báli, brave and wise,
Son of the God who rules the sides,
Sways, glorious in his high renown,
Kishkindhá his imperial town.
Well may that valiant lord who knows
Each art of war his might oppose
To thine, in equal battle set,
As Namuehi and Indra met.
Go, if thy soul desire the fray;
To Báli's city speed away,
And that uoconquered hero meet
Whose fame is high for warlike feat.'
He listened to the Lord of Snow,
And, his proud heart with rage aglow,
Sped swift away and lighted down
By vast Kishkindhá, Báli's town.
With pointed horns to strike and gore
The semblance of a bull he bore,
Huge as a cloud that downward bends
Ere the full flood of rain descends.
Impelled by pride and rage and hate,
He thundered at Kishkindhá's gate;
And with his bellowing, like the sound
Of pealing drums, he shook the ground,
He rent the earth and prostrate threw
The trees that near the portal grew.
King Báli from the bowers within
Indignant heard the roar and din.
Then, moonlike mid the stars, with all
His dames he hurried to the wall;
And to the fiend this speech, expressed
In clear and measured words, addressed:
'Know me for monarch. Báli styled,
Of Vánar tribes that roam the wild.
Say why dost thou this gate molest,
And bellowing thus disturb our rest?
I know thee, mighty fiend: beware
And guard thy life with wiser care.'
He spoke: and thus the fiend returned,
While red with rage his eyeballs burned:
'What! speak when all thy dames are nigh
And hero-like thy foe defy?

4.11.25

dhārayan māhiṣaṃ rūpaṃ tīkṣṇaśṛṅgo bhayāvahaḥ
prāvṛṣīva mahāmeghas toyapūrṇo nabhastale

For I, the hermit's calm retreat,
For deeds of war am all unmeet,'
The demon's eye with rage grew red,
And thus in furious tone he said:
'If thou from fear or sloth decline
To match thy strength in war with mine,
Where shall I find a champion, say,
To meet me burning for the fray?'
He spoke: Himálaya, skilled in lore
Of eloquence, replied once more,
And, angered in his righteous mind,
Addressed the chief of demon kind:
'The Vánar Báli, brave and wise,
Son of the God who rules the sides,
Sways, glorious in his high renown,
Kishkindhá his imperial town.
Well may that valiant lord who knows
Each art of war his might oppose
To thine, in equal battle set,
As Namuehi and Indra met.
Go, if thy soul desire the fray;
To Báli's city speed away,
And that uoconquered hero meet
Whose fame is high for warlike feat.'
He listened to the Lord of Snow,
And, his proud heart with rage aglow,
Sped swift away and lighted down
By vast Kishkindhá, Báli's town.
With pointed horns to strike and gore
The semblance of a bull he bore,
Huge as a cloud that downward bends
Ere the full flood of rain descends.
Impelled by pride and rage and hate,
He thundered at Kishkindhá's gate;
And with his bellowing, like the sound
Of pealing drums, he shook the ground,
He rent the earth and prostrate threw
The trees that near the portal grew.
King Báli from the bowers within
Indignant heard the roar and din.
Then, moonlike mid the stars, with all
His dames he hurried to the wall;
And to the fiend this speech, expressed
In clear and measured words, addressed:
'Know me for monarch. Báli styled,
Of Vánar tribes that roam the wild.
Say why dost thou this gate molest,
And bellowing thus disturb our rest?
I know thee, mighty fiend: beware
And guard thy life with wiser care.'
He spoke: and thus the fiend returned,
While red with rage his eyeballs burned:
'What! speak when all thy dames are nigh
And hero-like thy foe defy?

4.11.26

tatas tu dvāram āgamya kiṣkindhāyā mahābalaḥ
nanarda kampayan bhūmiṃ dundubhir dundubhir yathā

For I, the hermit's calm retreat,
For deeds of war am all unmeet,'
The demon's eye with rage grew red,
And thus in furious tone he said:
'If thou from fear or sloth decline
To match thy strength in war with mine,
Where shall I find a champion, say,
To meet me burning for the fray?'
He spoke: Himálaya, skilled in lore
Of eloquence, replied once more,
And, angered in his righteous mind,
Addressed the chief of demon kind:
'The Vánar Báli, brave and wise,
Son of the God who rules the sides,
Sways, glorious in his high renown,
Kishkindhá his imperial town.
Well may that valiant lord who knows
Each art of war his might oppose
To thine, in equal battle set,
As Namuehi and Indra met.
Go, if thy soul desire the fray;
To Báli's city speed away,
And that uoconquered hero meet
Whose fame is high for warlike feat.'
He listened to the Lord of Snow,
And, his proud heart with rage aglow,
Sped swift away and lighted down
By vast Kishkindhá, Báli's town.
With pointed horns to strike and gore
The semblance of a bull he bore,
Huge as a cloud that downward bends
Ere the full flood of rain descends.
Impelled by pride and rage and hate,
He thundered at Kishkindhá's gate;
And with his bellowing, like the sound
Of pealing drums, he shook the ground,
He rent the earth and prostrate threw
The trees that near the portal grew.
King Báli from the bowers within
Indignant heard the roar and din.
Then, moonlike mid the stars, with all
His dames he hurried to the wall;
And to the fiend this speech, expressed
In clear and measured words, addressed:
'Know me for monarch. Báli styled,
Of Vánar tribes that roam the wild.
Say why dost thou this gate molest,
And bellowing thus disturb our rest?
I know thee, mighty fiend: beware
And guard thy life with wiser care.'
He spoke: and thus the fiend returned,
While red with rage his eyeballs burned:
'What! speak when all thy dames are nigh
And hero-like thy foe defy?

4.11.27

samīpajān drumān bhañjan vasudhāṃ dārayan khuraiḥ
viṣāṇenollekhan darpāt taddvāraṃ dvirado yathā

For I, the hermit's calm retreat,
For deeds of war am all unmeet,'
The demon's eye with rage grew red,
And thus in furious tone he said:
'If thou from fear or sloth decline
To match thy strength in war with mine,
Where shall I find a champion, say,
To meet me burning for the fray?'
He spoke: Himálaya, skilled in lore
Of eloquence, replied once more,
And, angered in his righteous mind,
Addressed the chief of demon kind:
'The Vánar Báli, brave and wise,
Son of the God who rules the sides,
Sways, glorious in his high renown,
Kishkindhá his imperial town.
Well may that valiant lord who knows
Each art of war his might oppose
To thine, in equal battle set,
As Namuehi and Indra met.
Go, if thy soul desire the fray;
To Báli's city speed away,
And that uoconquered hero meet
Whose fame is high for warlike feat.'
He listened to the Lord of Snow,
And, his proud heart with rage aglow,
Sped swift away and lighted down
By vast Kishkindhá, Báli's town.
With pointed horns to strike and gore
The semblance of a bull he bore,
Huge as a cloud that downward bends
Ere the full flood of rain descends.
Impelled by pride and rage and hate,
He thundered at Kishkindhá's gate;
And with his bellowing, like the sound
Of pealing drums, he shook the ground,
He rent the earth and prostrate threw
The trees that near the portal grew.
King Báli from the bowers within
Indignant heard the roar and din.
Then, moonlike mid the stars, with all
His dames he hurried to the wall;
And to the fiend this speech, expressed
In clear and measured words, addressed:
'Know me for monarch. Báli styled,
Of Vánar tribes that roam the wild.
Say why dost thou this gate molest,
And bellowing thus disturb our rest?
I know thee, mighty fiend: beware
And guard thy life with wiser care.'
He spoke: and thus the fiend returned,
While red with rage his eyeballs burned:
'What! speak when all thy dames are nigh
And hero-like thy foe defy?