The RÁMÁYAN of VÁLMÍKI - Part 2 - 2 books and stories free download online pdf in English

The RÁMÁYAN of VÁLMÍKI - Part 2 - 2

2
Canto II.
The People's Speech.
Then to the full assembly bowed

The monarch, and addressed the crowd

With gracious speech, in accents loud

As heavenly drum or thunder-cloud:

“Needs not to you who know declare

How ever with paternal care

My fathers of Ikshváku's line

Have ruled the realm which now is mine.

I too have taught my feet to tread

The pathway of the mighty dead,

And with fond care that never slept

Have, as I could, my people kept.

So toiling still, and ne'er remiss

For all my people's weal and bliss,

Beneath the white umbrella's shade.

Old age is come and strength decayed.

Thousands of years have o'er me flown,

And generations round me grown

And passed away. I crave at length

Repose and ease for broken strength.

Feeble and worn I scarce can bear

The ruler's toil, the judge's care,

With royal dignity, a weight

That tries the young and temperate.

I long to rest, my labour done,

And in my place to set my son,

If to the twice-born gathered here

My counsel wise and good appear.

For greater gifts than mine adorn

Ráma my son, my eldest-born.

Like Indra brave, before him fall

The foeman's cities, tower and wall.

Him prince of men for power and might,

The best maintainer of the right,

Fair as the moon when nothing bars

His glory close to Pushya's stars,

Him with to-morrow's light I fain

Would throne the consort of my reign.

A worthy lord for you, I ween,

Marked as her own by Fortune's Queen.

The triple world itself would be

Well ruled by such a king as he.

To such high bliss and happy fate

Will I the country dedicate,

And my sad heart will cease to grieve

If he the precious charge receive.

Thus is my careful plan matured,

Thus for myself is rest secured;

Lieges, approve the words I say,

Or point ye out some wiser way.

Devise your prudent plan. My mind

Is fondly to this thought inclined,

But men by keen debating move

Some middle course which all approve.”

The monarch ceased. In answer came

The joyous princes' glad acclaim.

So peacocks in the rain rejoice

And hail the cloud with lifted voice.

Murmurs of joy from thousands round

Shook the high palace with the sound.

Then when the gathered throng had learned

His will who right and gain discerned,

Peasant and townsman, priest and chief,

All met in consultation brief,

And soon agreed with one accord

Gave answer to their sovereign lord:

“King of the land, we know thee old:

Thousands of years have o'er thee rolled,

Ráma thy son, we pray, anoint,

And at thy side his place appoint

Our gallant prince, so brave and strong,

Riding in royal state along,

Our eyes with joyful pride will see

Screened by the shade that shelters thee.”

Then spake the king again, as though

Their hearts' true wish he sought to know:

“These prayers for Ráma's rule suggest

One question to my doubting breast.

This thing, I pray, with truth explain:

Why would ye, while I justly reign,

That he, mine eldest son, should bear

His part with me as ruling heir?”

Then all the people made reply,

Peasant and townsman, low and high:

“Each noblest gift of form and mind,

O Monarch, in thy son we find.

Do thou the godlike virtues hear

Which Ráma to our hearts endear.

So richly blest with graces, none

In all the earth excels thy son:

Nay, who to match with him may claim

In truth, in justice, and in fame?

True to his promise, gentle, kind,

Unenvious, of grateful mind,

Versed in the law and firm of soul,

He keeps each sense with strict control.

With duteous care he loves to sit

By Bráhmans skilled in Holy Writ.

Hence brightest glory, ne'er to end,

And matchless fame his youth attend.

Skilled in the use of spear and shield,

And arms which heavenly warriors wield,

Supreme in war, unconquered yet

By man, fiend, God in battle met,

Whene'er in pomp of war he goes

'Gainst town or city of the foes,

He ever comes with Lakshmaṇ back

Victorious from the fierce attack.

Returning homeward from afar

Borne on his elephant or car,

He ever to the townsmen bends

And greets them as beloved friends,

Asks how each son, each servant thrives,

How fare our pupils, offerings, wives;

And like a father bids us tell,

Each for himself, that all is well.

If pain or grief the city tries

His heart is swift to sympathize.

When festive scenes our thoughts employ

He like a father shares the joy.

High is the fate, O King, that gave

Thy Ráma born to bless and save,

With filial virtues fair and mild

Like Kaśyap old Maríchi's child.

Hence to the kingdom's distant ends

One general prayer for him ascends.

Each man in town and country prays

For Ráma's strength, health, length of days.

With hearts sincere, their wish the same,

The tender girl, the aged dame,

Subject and stranger, peasant, hind,

One thought impressed on every mind,

At evening and at dawning day

To all the Gods for Ráma pray.

Do thou, O King, of grace comply,

And hear the people's longing cry,

And let us on the throne by thee

The lotus-tinted Ráma see.

O thou who givest boons, attend;

A gracious ear, O Monarch, lend

And for our weal install,

Consenting to our earnest prayer,

Thy godlike Ráma Regent Heir,

Who seeks the good of all.”