Canto X: Vishṇu, invoked by the Gods, becomes incarnate as Ráma, to destroy the Tyrant Râvaṇa

Long ruled the King, in fadeless splendour robed,
Like Indra mighty—till ten thousand years
Were well-nigh sped. Yet gained he not the wealth,
"Son" named, to pay the debt he owed the Sires,
That light which swiftly chases sorrow's gloom.
Long stayed the King, and yearned for grace divine
To give him issue,—Ocean thus of old,
As yet unchurned, delayed to yield its pearls.
Then pious Priests, ascetic, self-controlled,
By Ṛishyaçṛinga led, began the Rite
To win the King a son to heal his care.
At that same time, by Fate's supreme decree,
The Gods, by Râvaṇ vexed, to Vishṇu went
As heat-worn wayfarers to shade resort.
Soon as they reached wide Ocean, the Supreme
Woke from his sleep, foreboding good success
By timeous welcome. Him the Gods beheld,
On Çesha seated, where around his limbs
The flashing gems set in its sparkling hood
Shed radiance, while bright Lakshmî, lotus-throned,
Held in her lap His feet, and wrapped her zone
In silk, and spread her hands like clinging vines.
There clear as full-blown lotus beamed his eyes,
Like new-born Sun his robes—calm autumn day
He seemed, as gracious on their sight He rose.
The jewel Kaustubha on his broad chest
He wore, that pearl of Ocean, in whose rays
Shines out the wonder of His breast, the glass
Where Lakshmî's beauties play. His branching arms,
With gems of Heaven bedecked, amid the waves
Like Pârijâta seemed; while living darts,
That paled the cheeks of Daityas' wives, upraised
Their song triumphant. There the King of Birds,
With talons sheathed, relaxing warlike rage
Against the Snake, scarred by the lightning-stroke,
Attended watchful. Thus with shining eyes,
Mild-beaming as He woke from fateful sleep,
The Saints by Bhṛigu led He greeted well—
Who first had greeted Him with lowly words.
Then falling prostrate, Him the Gods extolled,
Who smote the Demon-host, who speech and thought
Transcends alike, Praise-worthy:—"Hail!" they cried,
"Threefold yet One, who first didst all things frame,
Upholdest now, and wilt at last destroy!
As rain from Heaven is one, yet forms diverse
In various lands assumes, so Thou, unchanged
In essence, workest various; Thou all worlds,
Thyself unmeasured, metest; feeling none,
Thou fillest all desires; Unconquered, all
Thou conquerest; veiled Thyself, Thou dost display
The World of seeming. Thee men know far off,
Yet dwelling in their hearts; from passion free,
Primal Ascetic; quick to sympathise,
Though Thee no pain can touch; by Age's hand
Untouched art Thou, yet Ancient; all unknown,
All-Knowing; Womb of all things, sprung from none;
Supreme, Thou know'st no ruler; One, yet manifold!
"Thee all adore: praised in the Seven Hymns,
On Oceans seven Thou sleep'st—Whose lips breathe out
The seven Fires, sole Refuge of seven Worlds.
Four-branched is knowledge, Ages four bound Time,
Four orders hath mankind, from Thy four mouths
Proceed all worlds. Oh, heart's resplendent goal!
For Thee ascetics yearn, their lusts subdued
By painful exercise, and seek from Thee
The Good Supreme. Unborn, yet taking flesh;
Not seeking triumph, Thou dost smite Thy foes;
Thou sleep'st, yet watchest ever:—who can tell
Thy being's truth? The binding chains of sense,
Of hearing and all else, at will Thou tak'st;
Endurest harshest toil,—dost shield Thy worlds,—
Yet dwellest high apart. The ways of Bliss,
Diversely shown and taught, all lead to Thee,
As Gangâ's parted streams seek Ocean's breast.
"Who fix their hearts on Thee, and trust to Thee
All working, free from lust,—these find in Thee
That happy way which none need travel more.
Thy greatness none can grasp, though in the worlds
Thou clothe Thyself in matter: who shall tell
Thy worship forth, which Holy Writ alone
And thought profound can reach? The soul of man
Thou purgest wholly, if his thought on Thee
Be purely fixed: how fruitful then must be
Soul-union with Thee! Yet as Ocean far
Outshines the gems he hides, as o'er his rays
The Sun shines glorious, so Thy greatness, Lord,
Transcends our halting praise! Nor want hast Thou,
Nor aught allures Thee; Birth Thou tak'st and Toil,
That through the Worlds Salvation may be wrought!
Here cease we from Thy praise, exhausted, weak:
Thou art exhaustless, boundless spreads Thy might!"
So hymned the Gods that Soul unthinkable,
And strove to paint His essence, not exalt.

The Almighty Lord propitious greeted well
The radiant Gods, who told their anxious fear
Lest Earth should sink o'erflowed by Râkshas-wave.
To them the Blessed spake, with thunderous voice
That stilled the Ocean-roar, re-echoing
Through sea-girt caverns:—so the Ageless Lord
In hallowed tones replied, the while His words
All-holy half-conferred the promised boon.
As Gangâ, heavenly stream, springs from His foot,
And gleams with foam, so gleamed the mighty word
Lit by His shining teeth—as thus He spake:—
"Well know I how the Râkshas has smit down
Your glorious might, as Ignorance in man
Annihilates both Truth and Passion's force.
And as a good man's heart unwitting sin
Disturbs and tortures, so with Demon-might
He tortures the Three Worlds. Great Indra's prayers
I needed not to rouse my will to help,
For our desire is one, as Wind and Fire
Are eager allies. Yea, in ages past,
When nine were smitten with his own great sword,
The Giant's tenth head stood, a destined prey
For my resistless Quoit. Long since his fate
Had overta'en him, but for Brahmâ's boon:
His insolence I suffered, as a tree
Long bears insulting serpents. For of yore,
Pleased with his rites austere, from Brahmâ's hand
The Demon won this boon, to dread no foe
Of Heavenly race—he feared not arm of man.
"Incarnate then as Daçaratha's son,
With biting arrow I his clustering heads
Will cleave like lotus-clusters, sacrificed
Upon the foughten field. Thereafter soon
The holy offerings which pure priests present,
By skulking ghosts untainted, once again
Ye shall enjoy! And you, ye Saints, who now,
In cars celestial riding through the sky,
Seek refuge in dark clouds, dismayed no more
At sight of Pushpaka, resume your calm!
The captive brides of Heaven, by Râvaṇ's rapes
No more disturbed, their locks shall now unbind."
Then melted Vishṇu's cloud, whence blessed words
Like rain of nectar on the parchèd fields
Of hopes of Gods, by Râvaṇ scorched, had fallen.
But Indra and his peers in subtle shapes
Went after the great God, whose mighty will
Was bent to aid them, ev'n as blossoming trees
Waft pollen on the path of favouring gales.

Now when the Rites were ended, which the King
Performed to win him offspring, sudden came
From out the altar-fire a Form Divine,
And awed the Priests. High in His hands he bore
A golden dish of mingled rice and milk,
And scarce could bear, for there the Almighty lay.
That draught God-given drank the King, as erst
Did Indra drink the essential Nectar, churned
From Ocean's heart. How excellent that King,
In virtue eminent, without a peer,
From whom the Soul Supreme now sought His birth!
The sacred draught, where Vishṇu's self lay hid,
To his two Queens he parted, as the Sun
His morning-beams divides 'twixt Sky and Earth.
Kauçalyâ high he prized, Kaikeyî loved,
And fain would have Sumitrâ loved by both,
As well they knew: so, gracing their wise Lord,
Each with Sumitrâ shared the holy milk,
Nor grudged to share; for she alike to both
Showed equal love, as seeks a honey-bee
Both fragrant streams that from the mighty brows
Of elephants exude. All three conceived:
And in their wombs divided grew the God,
As grows a lotus quickened by Sun-rays.
Their time went on: with paly gold they beamed,
As gleams the corn blade while the golden grain
Swells in the ear. By night in happy dreams
They saw themselves girt round by sworded dwarfs,
With conch, and club, and bow, and quoit; they rode
(It seemed) on Garuḍa, who spread in air
The gauzy glory of his golden wings,
And in swift flight drew in his wake the clouds.
And Lakshmî served them, wearing on her breast
Kaustubha lent by Vishṇu, waving soft
Her lotus-fan; while all the Saints supreme,
The holy Seven, fresh bathed in Gangâ's flood,
In solemn chant extolled the Holiest Name.
These dreams they told their Lord, who joyed to hear,
And, proud of promised offspring, thought his lot
Transcended even great Prajâpati's;
For in their wombs the Soul Supreme now dwelt,
One Essence, self-divided, manifold,
Like moonbeams shimmering on a quiet lake.
So when her time was come the chaste chief Queen
Brought forth a son, Sun fit to banish gloom,
As phosphorescent plants receive at night
The dying sunlight. But the King, rejoiced
To see his winsome beauty, "Râma" named
His son, chief blessing to a longing world.
He, lamp of Raghu's line, of peerless beam
Outshone the brightness of the chamber-lights,
Which paled before him. Lightened now, the Queen,
With Râma cradled near her, shone as shines—
Slim in the autumn—Gangâ, lily-banked.
Kaikeyî bore a son, with beauty dowered,
Great Bharat, whose reflected loveliness
Made her more fair, as Fortune is enhanced
By virtuous Conduct. Sumitrâ brought forth
Twins, Lakshmaṇ and Çatrughna:—Foresight so
And Temperance Wisdom fully-followed bears.
Now stainless showed Creation, and the Earth
Displayed her virtues: Heaven to Earth came down
In train of the Supreme. At Vishṇu's birth,
The Four-faced God, those regions breathed anew
With purest gales, where erst fell Râvaṇ's dread
Had cowed the Gods. Fire rising clear of smoke,
And Sun in cloudless sky, shook sorrow off,
Who late had groaned beneath the Giant's yoke.
Then shed the Fortune of the Râkshasas
Hot tears, that fell as jewels from the crowns
Ten-headed Râvaṇ wore. Through all high Heaven
The drums celestial preluded, on earth,
The royal trumpets hailed the Princes' birth.
The Tree of Paradise rained down its blooms
On palace-roof, fit preface to the rites
That Fortunes high demand, with wreaths from Heaven.

Cleansed as the Law required, with fostering care
The Princes grew, while grew their Father's joy,
As 'twere their elder brother. Self-restraint,
Inborn, by modest actions still increased,
As, fed with fragrant unguents, Fire's bright flame
More brilliant shows. They four, harmoniously—
Not envying each the other—nobly graced
Great Raghu's blameless line, as each in turn
The seasons four adorn the groves of Heaven,
So love fraternal ruled; but closest ties
To Râma Lakshmaṇ bound, while Çatrughna
With Bharat went, by love peculiar joined.
Yet was not either pair dissevered from
That other Wind with Fire is closest joined,
And Moon with Ocean—yet this breeds no strife.
True Princes of their people, splendidly
They bore them, yet not haughtily,—and won
All men's great love,—as at hot summer's end
Days of dark cloud are pleasant. Gloriously
So shone the King's four sons, as though to Earth
Came Virtue, Wealth, and Joy, and Final Bliss.
Their Father well they loved: by virtuous deeds
They made him glad, as the Four Seas with pearls
Served him, sole Monarch of Four Continents.
As with his tusks Heaven's mighty elephant
Breaks the sword-edges of the Daitya-host,
As kingcraft wins success by skilful wiles,
As by His league-long arms great Vishnu's self
Shines glorious,—so by these four sons Divine
Shone the great Monarch o'er his world-wide realm!