The RÁMÁYAN of VÁLMÍKI - Part 2 - 27 books and stories free download online pdf in English

The RÁMÁYAN of VÁLMÍKI - Part 2 - 27

Canto XXVII. 
Sítá's Speech.
His sweetly-speaking bride, who best

Deserved her lord, he thus addressed.

Then tender love bade passion wake,

And thus the fair Videhan spake:

“What words are these that thou hast said?

Contempt of me the thought has bred.

O best of heroes, I dismiss

With bitter scorn a speech like this:

Unworthy of a warrior's fame

It taints a monarch's son with shame,

Ne'er to be heard from those who know

The science of the sword and bow.

My lord, the mother, sire, and son

Receive their lots by merit won;

The brother and the daughter find

The portions to their deeds assigned.

The wife alone, whate'er await,

Must share on earth her husband's fate.

So now the king's command which sends

Thee to the wild, to me extends.

The wife can find no refuge, none,

In father, mother, self, or son:

Both here, and when they vanish hence,

Her husband is her sole defence.

If, Raghu's son, thy steps are led

Where Daṇḍak's pathless wilds are spread,

My foot before thine own shall pass

Through tangled thorn and matted grass.

Dismiss thine anger and thy doubt:

Like refuse water cast them out,

And lead me, O my hero, hence—

I know not sin—with confidence.

Whate'er his lot, 'tis far more sweet

To follow still a husband's feet

Than in rich palaces to lie,

Or roam at pleasure through the sky.

My mother and my sire have taught

What duty bids, and trained each thought,

Nor have I now mine ear to turn

The duties of a wife to learn.

I'll seek with thee the woodland dell

And pathless wild where no men dwell,

Where tribes of silvan creatures roam,

And many a tiger makes his home.

My life shall pass as pleasant there

As in my father's palace fair.

The worlds shall wake no care in me;

My only care be truth to thee.

There while thy wish I still obey,

True to my vows with thee I'll stray,

And there shall blissful hours be spent

In woods with honey redolent.

In forest shades thy mighty arm

Would keep a stranger's life from harm,

And how shall Sítá think of fear

When thou, O glorious lord, art near?

Heir of high bliss, my choice is made,

Nor can I from my will be stayed.

Doubt not; the earth will yield me roots,

These will I eat, and woodland fruits;

And as with thee I wander there

I will not bring thee grief or care.

I long, when thou, wise lord, art nigh,

All fearless, with delighted eye

To gaze upon the rocky hill,

The lake, the fountain, and the rill;

To sport with thee, my limbs to cool,

In some pure lily-covered pool,

While the white swan's and mallard's wings

Are plashing in the water-springs.

So would a thousand seasons flee

Like one sweet day, if spent with thee.

Without my lord I would not prize

A home with Gods above the skies:

Without my lord, my life to bless,

Where could be heaven or happiness?

Forbid me not: with thee I go

The tangled wood to tread.

There will I live with thee, as though

This roof were o'er my head.

My will for thine shall be resigned;

Thy feet my steps shall guide.

Thou, only thou, art in my mind:

I heed not all beside.

Thy heart shall ne'er by me be grieved;

Do not my prayer deny:

Take me, dear lord; of thee bereaved

Thy Sítá swears to die.”

These words the duteous lady spake,

Nor would he yet consent

His faithful wife with him to take

To share his banishment.

He soothed her with his gentle speech;

To change her will he strove;

And much he said the woes to teach

Of those in wilds who rove.