Ramayana 6.52

"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 Punjikasthala(922) 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 Nalini(923) with soil distained, The mansion of the Sire she gained, And weeping made the outrage known To Brahma on his heavenly throne. He in his wrath pronounced a curse,-- That lord who made the universe: "If, Ravan, 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 Sita's stubborn will. Terrific as the sea in might: My steps are like the Storm-Gods' flight; But Rama 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 Rama 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."