"I Rama's wife, on that sad day, By Ravan's arm was borne away, Seized, while I sat and feared no ill, By him who wears each form at will. A helpless captive, left forlorn To demons' threats and taunts and scorn, Here for my lord I weep and sigh, And worn with woe would gladly die. For what is life to me afar From Rama of the mighty car? The robber in his fruitless sin Would hope his captive's love to win. My meaner foot shall never touch The demon whom I loathe so much. The senseless fool! he knows me not, Nor the proud soul his love would blot. Yea, limb from limb will I be rent, But never to his prayer consent; Be burnt and perish in the fire, But never meet his base desire. My lord was grateful, true and wise, And looked on woe with pitying eyes; But now, recoiling from the strife He pities not his captive wife. Alone in Janasthan he slew The thousands of the Rakshas crew. His arm was strong, his heart was brave, Why comes he not to free and save? Why blame my lord in vain surmise? He knows not where his lady lies. O, if he knew, o'er land and sea His feet were swift to set me free; This Lanka, girdled by the deep, Would fall consumed, a shapeless heap, And from each ruined home would rise A Rakshas widow's groans and cries."Ramayana 5.77 · Ramayana · 5
Ramayana 5.77
Ramayana · translated by Ralph T.H. Griffith
Themes in this passage
The DivineDeathLoveMarriageStrengthCourageDesireFear
The Divine in other traditions
The same theme, as Christianity, Islam, Buddhism and Hellenism address it.
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Self is the lord of self, who else could be the lord? With self well subdued, a man finds a lord such as few can find.Dhp 12.160 · Dhammapada · Self
Saturnia lends the lash; the coursers fly; Smooth glides the chariot through the liquid sky. Heaven’s gates spontaneous open to the powers, Heaven’s golden gates, kept by the winged Hours. Commission’d in alternate watch they stand, The sun’s bright portals and the skies command; Close, or unfold, the eternal gates of day Bar heaven with clouds, or roll those clouds away. The sounding hinges ring, the clouds divide. Prone down the steep of heaven their course they guide. But Jove, incensed, from Ida’s top survey’d, And thus enjoin’d the many-colour’d maid.Iliad 8.29 · Iliad · 8
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