Valmiki Ramayana 4.4.6

4.4.6

rājā daśaratho nāma dyutimān dharmavatsalaḥ
tasyāyaṃ pūrvajaḥ putro rāmo nāma janaiḥ śrutaḥ

Cheered by the words that Ráma spoke,
Joy in the Vánar's breast awoke,
And, as his friendly mood he knew,
His thoughts to King Sugriva flew:
' Again,' he mused,'my high-sou'ed lord
Shall rule, to kingly state restored;
Since one so mighty comes to save,
And freely gives the help we crave."
Then joyous Hanumán, the best
Of all the Vánar kind, addressed
These words to Ráma, trained of yore
In all the arts of speakers' lore:
'Why do your feet this forest tread
By silvan life inhabited,
This awful maze of tree and thorn
Which Pampá's flowering groves adorn?
He spoke: obedient to the eye
Of Ráma Lakshman made reply,
The name and fortune to unfold
Of Raghu's son the lofty-souled:
'True to the law, of fame unstained,
The glorious Das'aratha reigned.
And, steadfast in his duty, long
Kept the four castes from scathe and wrong.
Through his wide realm his will was done,
And, loved by all, he hated none.
Just to each creature great and small,
Like the Good Sire he cared for all.
The Agnishtom, as priests advised,

And various rites he solemnized.
Where ample largess ever paid
The Brahmans for their holy aid.
Here Ráma stands, his heir by birth,
Whose name is glorious in the earth:
Sure refuge he of all oppressed,
Most faithful to his sire's behest.
He, Das'aratha's eldest born
Whom gifts above the rest adorn,
Lord of each high imperial sign,
The glory of his kingly line,
Reft of his right, expelled from home,
Came forth with me the woods to roam,
And Sitá too, his faithful dame,
Forth with her virtuous husband came,
Like the sweet light when day is done
Still cleaving to her lord the sun.
And me his sweet perfections drew
To follow as his servant true.
Named Lakshman, brother of my lord
Of grateful heart with knowledge stored
Most meet is he all bliss to share,
Who makes the good of all his care.
While, power and lordship caat away,
In the wild wood he chose to stay,
A giant came,--his name unknown,--
And stole the princess left alone.
Then Dití's son who, cursed of yore.
The semblance of a Rakshas wore,
To King Sugríva bade us turn
The robber's name and home to learn.
For he, the Vánar chief, would know
The dwelling of our secret foe.
Such words of hope spake Dití's son,
And sought the heaven his deeds had won.
Thou hast my tale. From first to last
Thine ears have heard whate'er has past.
Rama the mighty lord and I
For refuge to Sugríva fly.
The prince whose arm bright glory gained.
O'er the whole earth as monarch reigned,
And richest gifts to others gave,
Is come Sugríva's help to crave;
Son of a king the surest friend
Of virtue, him who loved to lend
His succour to the suffering weak,
Is come Sugríva's aid to seek.
Yes, Raghu's son whose matchless hand
Protected all this sea-girt land,
The virtuous prince, my holy guide,
For refuge seeks Sugríva's side.
His favour sent on great and small
Should ever save and prosper all.
He now to win Sugríva's grace
Has sought his woodland dwelling-place.