Ramayana, Book III, Canto 76: Pampáअरण्यकाण्डम्

When Śavarí had sought the skies
And gained her splendid virtue’s prize,
Ráma with Lakshmaṇ stayed to brood
O’er the strange scenes their eyes had viewed.
His mind upon those saints was bent,
For power and might preëminent
And he to musing Lakshmaṇ spoke
The thoughts that in his bosom woke:
“Mine eyes this wondrous home have viewed
Of those great saints with souls subdued,
Where peaceful tigers dwell and birds,
And deer abound in heedless herds.
Our feet upon the banks have stood
Of those seven lakes within the wood,
Where we have duly dipped, and paid
Libations to each royal shade.
Forgotten now are thoughts of ill
And joyful hopes my bosom fill.
Again my heart is light and gay
And grief and care have passed away.
Come, brother, let us hasten where
Bright Pampá’s flood is fresh and fair,
And towering in their beauty near
Mount Rishyamúka’s heights appear,
Which, offspring of the Lord of Light,
Still fearing Báli’s conquering might,
With four brave chiefs of Vánar race
Sugríva makes his dwelling-place.
I long with eager heart to find
That leader of the Vánar kind,
For on that chief my hopes depend
That this our quest have prosperous end.”

 Thus Ráma spoke, in battle tried,
And thus Sumitrá’s son replied:
“Come, brother, come, and speed away:
My spirit brooks no more delay.”
Thus spake Sumitrá’s son, and then
Forth from the grove the king of men
With his dear brother by his side
To Pampá’s lucid waters hied.
He gazed upon the woods where grew
Trees rich in flowers of every hue.
From brake and dell on every side
The curlew and the peacock cried,
And flocks of screaming parrots made
Shrill music in the bloomy shade.
His eager eyes, as on he went,
On many a pool and tree were bent.
Inflamed with love he journeyed on
Till a fair flood before him shone.
He stood upon the water’s side
Which streams from distant hills supplied:
Matanga’s name that water bore:
There bathed he from the shelving shore.
Then, each on earnest thoughts intent,
Still farther on their way they went.
But Ráma’s heart once more gave way
Beneath his grief and wild dismay.
Before him lay the noble flood
Adorned with many a lotus bud.
On its fair banks Aśoka glowed,
And all bright trees their blossoms showed.
Green banks that silver waves confined
With lovely groves were fringed and lined.
The crystal waters in their flow
Showed level sands that gleamed below.
There glittering fish and tortoise played,
And bending trees gave pleasant shade.
There creepers on the branches hung
With lover-like embraces clung.
There gay Gandharvas loved to meet,
And Kinnars sought the calm retreat.
There wandering Yakshas found delight,
Snake-gods and rovers of the night.
Cool were the pleasant waters, gay
Each tree with creeper, flower, and spray.
There flushed the lotus darkly red,
Here their white glory lilies spread,
Here sweet buds showed their tints of blue:
So carpets gleam with many a hue.
A grove of Mangoes blossomed nigh,
Echoing with the peacock’s cry.
When Ráma by his brother’s side
The lovely flood of Pampá eyed,
Decked like a beauty, fair to see
With every charm of flower and tree,
His mighty heart with woe was rent
And thus he spoke in wild lament

 “Here, Lakshmaṇ, on this beauteous shore,
Stands, dyed with tints of many an ore,
The mountain Rishyamúka bright
With flowery trees that crown each height.
Sprung from the chief who, famed of yore,
The name of Riksharajas bore,
Sugríva, chieftain strong and dread,
Dwells on that mountain’s towering head.
Go to him, best of men, and seek
That prince of Vánars on the peak,
I cannot longer brook my pain,
Or, Sítá lost, my life retain.”
 Thus by the pangs of love distressed,
 His thoughts on Sítá bent,
 His faithful brother he addressed,
 And cried in wild lament.
 He reached the lovely ground that lay
 On Pampá’s wooded side,
 And told in anguish and dismay,
 The grief he could not hide.
 With listless footsteps faint and slow
 His way the chief pursued,
 Till Pampá with her glorious show
 Of flowering woods he viewed.
 Through shades where every bird was found
 The prince with Lakshmaṇ passed,
 And Pampá with her groves around
 Burst on his eyes at last.