Ramayana, Book VI, Canto 13: Rávan’s Speechयुद्धकाण्डम्

Ralph T. H. Griffith’s English verse (1870–74), beside the Sanskrit of sarga 6.13.

13Sanskrit sarga 6.13 · Sanskrit source · English source

Sanskrit

रावणं क्रुद्धमाज्ञाय महापार्श्वो महाबलः।
मुहूर्तमनुसंचिन्त्य प्राञ्जलिर्वाक्यमब्रवीत्॥ १॥
यः खल्वपि वनं प्राप्य मृगव्यालनिषेवितम्।
न पिबेन्मधु सम्प्राप्य स नरो बालिशो भवेत्॥ २॥
ईश्वरस्येश्वरः कोऽस्ति तव शत्रुनिबर्हण।
रमस्व सह वैदेह्या शत्रूनाक्रम्य मूर्धसु॥ ३॥
बलात् कुक्कुटवृत्तेन प्रवर्तस्व महाबल।
आक्रम्याक्रम्य सीतां वै तां भुङ्क्ष्व च रमस्व च॥ ४॥
लब्धकामस्य ते पश्चादागमिष्यति किं भयम्।
प्राप्तमप्राप्तकालं वा सर्वं प्रतिविधास्यसे॥ ५॥
कुम्भकर्णः सहास्माभिरिन्द्रजिच्च महाबलः।
प्रतिषेधयितुं शक्तौ सवज्रमपि वज्रिणम्॥ ६॥
उपप्रदानं सान्त्वं वा भेदं वा कुशलैः कृतम्।
समतिक्रम्य दण्डेन सिद्धिमर्थेषु रोचये॥ ७॥
इह प्राप्तान् वयं सर्वाञ्छत्रूंस्तव महाबल।
वशे शस्त्रप्रतापेन करिष्यामो न संशयः॥ ८॥
एवमुक्तस्तदा राजा महापार्श्वेन रावणः।
तस्य सम्पूजयन् वाक्यमिदं वचनमब्रवीत्॥ ९॥
महापार्श्व निबोध त्वं रहस्यं किंचिदात्मनः।
चिरवृत्तं तदाख्यास्ये यदवाप्तं पुरा मया॥ १०॥
पितामहस्य भवनं गच्छन्तीं पुञ्जिकस्थलाम्।
चञ्चूर्यमाणामद्राक्षमाकाशेऽग्निशिखामिव॥ ११॥
सा प्रसह्य मया भुक्ता कृता विवसना ततः।
स्वयम्भूभवनं प्राप्ता लोलिता नलिनी यथा॥ १२॥
तच्च तस्य तथा मन्ये ज्ञातमासीन्महात्मनः।
अथ संकुपितो वेधा मामिदं वाक्यमब्रवीत्॥ १३॥
अद्यप्रभृति यामन्यां बलान्नारीं गमिष्यसि।
तदा ते शतधा मूर्धा फलिष्यति न संशयः॥ १४॥
इत्यहं तस्य शापस्य भीतः प्रसभमेव ताम्।
नारोहये बलात् सीतां वैदेहीं शयने शुभे॥ १५॥
सागरस्येव मे वेगो मारुतस्येव मे गतिः।
नैतद् दाशरथिर्वेद ह्यासादयति तेन माम्॥ १६॥
को हि सिंहमिवासीनं सुप्तं गिरिगुहाशये।
क्रुद्धं मृत्युमिवासीनं प्रबोधयितुमिच्छति॥ १७॥
न मत्तो निर्गतान् बाणान् द्विजिह्वान् पन्नगानिव।
रामः पश्यति संग्रामे तेन मामभिगच्छति॥ १८॥
क्षिप्रं वज्रसमैर्बाणैः शतधा कार्मुकच्युतैः।
राममादीपयिष्यामि उल्काभिरिव कुञ्जरम्॥ १९॥
तच्चास्य बलमादास्ये बलेन महता वृतः।
उदितः सविता काले नक्षत्राणां प्रभामिव॥ २०॥
न वासवेनापि सहस्रचक्षुषा
युधास्मि शक्यो वरुणेन वा पुनः।
मया त्वियं बाहुबलेन निर्जिता
पुरा पुरी वैश्रवणेन पालिता॥ २१॥

English Griffith

But Mahápárśva saw the sting
Of keen reproach had galled the king;
And humbly, eager to appease
His anger, spoke in words like these:

“And breathes there one so cold and weak
The forest and the gloom to seek
Where savage beasts abound, and spare
To taste the luscious honey there?
Art thou not lord? and who is he
Shall venture to give laws to thee?
Love thy Videhan still, and tread
Upon thy prostrate foeman’s head.
O’er Sítá’s will let thine prevail,
And strength achieve if flattery fail.
What though the lady yet be coy
And turn her from the proffered joy?
Soon shall her conquered heart relent
And yield to love and blandishment.
With us let Kumbhakarṇa fight,
And Indrajít of matchless might:
We need not other champions, they
Shall lead us forth to rout and slay.
Not ours to bribe or soothe or part
The foeman’s force with gentle art,
Doomed, conquered by our might, to feel
The vengeance of the warrior’s steel.”

The Rákshas monarch heard, and moved
By flattering hopes the speech approved:

“Hear me,” he cried, “great chieftain, tell
What in the olden time befell,—
A secret tale which, long suppressed,
Lies prisoned only in my breast.
One day—a day I never forget—
Fair Punjikasthalá⁹²² I met,
When, radiant as a flame of fire,
She sought the palace of the Sire.
In passion’s eager grasp I tore
From her sweet limbs the robes she wore,
And heedless of her prayers and cries
Strained to my breast the vanquised prize.
Like Naliní⁹²³ with soil distained,
The mansion of the Sire she gained,
And weeping made the outrage known
To Brahmá on his heavenly throne.
He in his wrath pronounced a curse,—
That lord who made the universe:
“If, Rávaṇ, thou a second time
Be guilty of so foul a crime,
Thy head in shivers shall be rent:
Be warned, and dread the punishment.”
Awed by the threat of vengeance still
I force not Sítá’s stubborn will.
Terrific as the sea in might:
My steps are like the Storm-Gods’ flight;
But Ráma knows not this, or he
Had never sought to war with me.
Where is the man would idly brave
The lion in his mountain cave,
And wake him when with slumbering eyes
Grim, terrible as Death, he lies?
No, blinded Ráma knows me not:
Ne’er has he seen mine arrows shot;
Ne’er marked them speeding to their aim
Like snakes with cloven tongues of flame.
On him those arrows will I turn,
Whose fiery points shall rend and burn.
Quenched by my power when I assail
The glory of his might shall fail,
As stars before the sun grow dim
And yield their feeble light to him.”

Griffith’s notes (2)

One of the Nymphs of Indra’s heaven.
The Lotus River, a branch of the heavenly Gangá.