{"collection":"Hinduism","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/hin/rama/ry259.htm","path":"hin/rama/ry259.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/hin/rama/ry259.htm","text":"As R\u00e1ma sought his leafy cot\n Through his left eye keen throbbings shot,\n His wonted strength his frame forsook,\n And all his body reeled aud shook.\n Still on those dreadful signs he thought,\n Sad omens with disaster fraught,\n And from his troubled heart he cried,\n 'O, may no ill my spouse betide!'\n He hastened to his dwelling-place,\n Then sinking neath his misery's weight,\n He looked and found it desolate.\n Tossing his mighty arms on high\n He sought her with an eager cry.\n From spot to spot he wildly ran\n Each corner of his home to scan.\n He looked, but S\u00edt\u00e1 was not there;\n His cot was disolate and bare,\n Like streamlet in the winter frost,\n The glory of her lilies lost.\n With leafy tears the sad trees wept\n As a wild wind their branches swept.\n Mourned bird aud deer, and every flower\n Drooped fainting round the lonely bower.\n The silvan deities had fled\n The spot where all the light was dead,\n Where hermit coats of skin displayed,\n And piles of sacred grass were laid.\n He saw, and maddened by his pain\n Cried in lament again, again:\n 'Where is she, dead or torn away.\n Lost, or some hungry giant's prey?\n Or did my darling chance to rove\n For fruit and blossoms though the grove?\n Or has she sought the pool or rill,\n Her pitcher from the wave to fill?'\n His eager eyes on fire with pain\n He roamed about with maddened brain.\n Each grove and glade he searched with care,\n He sought, but found no S\u00edt\u00e1 there.\n He wildly rushed from hill to hill;\n From tree to tree, from rill to rill.\n As bitter woe his bosom rent\n Still R\u00e1ma roamed with fond lament:\n 'O sweet Kadamba say has she\n Who loved thy bloom been seen by thee?\n If thou have seen her face most fair,\n Say, gentle tree, I pray thee, where.\n O Bel tree with thy golden fruit\n Round as her breast, no more be mute.\n Where is my radiant darling, gay\n In silk that mocks thy glossy spray?\n O Arjun, say, where is she now\n Who loved to touch thy scented bough?\n Do not thy graceful friend forget,\n But tell me, is she living yet?\n Speak, Basil, thou must surely know,\n For like her limbs thy branches show,--\n Most lovely in thy fair array\n Of twining plant and tender spray.\n Sweet Tila, fairest of the trees,\n Melodious with the hum of bees,\n Where is my darling Sita, tell,--\n The dame who loved thy flowers so well?\n A\u0153oka, act thy gentle part,--\n Named Heartsease,\u00a01 give me what thou art,\n To these sad eyes my darling show\n And free me from this load of woe.\n O Palm, in rich ripe fruitage dressed\n Round as the beauties of her breast,\n \n \n If thou have heart to know and feel,\n My peerless consort's fate reveal.\n Hast thou, Rose-apple, chanced to view\n My darling bright with golden hue?\n If thou have seen her quickly speak,\n Where is the dame I wildly seek?\n O glorious Cassia, thou art gay\n With all thy loveliest bloom to-day,\n Where is my dear who loved to hold\n In her full lap thy flowery gold?'\n To many a tree and plant beside,\n To Jasmin, Mango, S\u00e1l, he cried.\n 'Say, hast thou seen, O gentle deer,\n The fawn-eyed S\u00edt\u00e1 wandering here?\n It may be that my love has strayed\n To sport with fawns beneath the shade,\n If thou, great elephant, have seen\n My darling of the lovely mien,\n Whose rounded limbs are soft and fine\n As is that lissome trunk of thine,\n O noblest of wild creatures, show\n Where is the dame thou needs must know.\n O tiger, hast thou chanced to see\n My darling? very fair is she.\n Cast all thy fear away, declare,\n Where is my moon-faced darling, where?\n There, darling of the lotus eye,\n I see thee, and 'tis vain to fly.\n Wilt thou not speak, dear love? I see\n Thy form half hidden by the tree.\n Stay if thou love me, S\u00edt\u00e1, stay\n In pity cease thy heartless play,\n Why mock me now? thy gentle breast\n Was never prone to cruel jest.\n 'Tis vain behind yon bush to steal:\n Thy shimmering silks thy path reveal.\n Fly not, mine eyes pursue thy way;\n For pity's sake, dear S\u00edt\u00e1, stay.\n Ah me, ah me, my words are vain;\n My gentle love is lost or slain.\n How could her tender bosom spurn\n Her husband on his home-return?\n Ah no, my love is surely dead,\n Fierce giants on her flesh have fed,\n Rending the soft limbs of their prey\n When I her lord was far away.\n That moon-bright face, that polished brow,\n Red lips, bright teeth--what are they now?\n Alas, my darling's shapely neck\n She loved with chains of gold to deck.--\n That neck that mocked the sandal scent,\n The ruthless fiends have grasped and rent\n Alas, 'twas vain those arms to raise\n Soft as the young tree's tender sprays\n Ah, dainty meal for giants' lips\n Were arms and quivering finger tips.\n Ah, she who counted many a friend\n Was left for fiends to seize and rend,\n Was left by me without defence\n From ravening giants' violence.\n O Lakshman of the arm of might,\n \n \n Say, is my darling love in sight;\n O dearest S\u00edt\u00e1. where art thou?\n Where is my darling consort now?'\n \u00a0\u00a0 Thus as he cried in wild lament\n From grove to grove the mourner went.\n Here for a moment sank to rest.\n Then started up and onward pressed.\n Thus roaming on like one distraught\n Still for his vanished love he sought.\n He searched in wood and hill and glade,\n By rock and brook and wild cascade.\n Through groves with restless step he sped\n And left no spot unvisited.\n Through lawns and woods of vast extent\n Still searching for his love he went\n \u00a0\u00a0 With eager steps and fast.\n For many a weary hour he toiled,\n Still in his fond endeavour foiled,\n \u00a0\u00a0 Yet hoping to the last.\n \n \n \n \n300:1 As'oka is compounded of a not and s'oka grief.","title":"BOOK III: Canto LXI.: R\u00e1ma's Lament.","type":"page"}