Ramayana 6.397

Him Raghu's royal son, the best Of those who love the law, addressed: "False was the rover of the night, He loved the wrong and scorned the right. Yet for the fallen warrior plead The dauntless heart, the valorous deed. Let him who ne'er had brooked defeat, The chief whom Indra feared to meet, The ever-conquering lord, obtain The honours that should grace the slain." Vibhishan bade his friends prepare The funeral rites with thoughtful care. Himself the royal palace sought Whence sacred fire was quickly brought, With sandal wood and precious scents And pearl and coral ornaments. Wise Brahmans, while the tears that flowed Down their wan cheeks their sorrow sowed, Upon a golden litter laid The corpse in finest ropes arrayed. Thereon were flowers and pennons hung, And loud the monarch's praise was sung. Then was the golden litter raised, While holy fire in order blazed. And first in place Vibhishan led The slow procession of the dead, Behind, their cheeks with tears bedewed, Came sad the widowed multitude. Where, raised as Brahmans ordered, stood Piled sandal logs, and scented wood, The body of the king was set High on a deerskin coverlet. Then duly to the monarch's shade The offerings for the dead they paid, And southward on the eastern side An altar formed and fire supplied. Then on the shoulder of the dead The oil and clotted milk were shed. All rites were done as rules ordain: The sacrificial goat was slain. Next on the corpse were perfumes thrown And many a flowery wreath was strown; And with Vibhishan's ready aid Rich vesture o'er the king was laid. Then while the tears their cheeks bedewed Parched grain upon the dead they strewed; Last, to the wood, as rules require, Vibhishan set the kindling fire.