SECTION CXIV.

Arriving by means of a car emitting a low and solemn sound, that lord,

the highly famous Bharata speedily entered Ayodhya, ranged by cats and

owls, with the doors of the people's dwellings remaining closed; like a

night enveloped in darkness; gloomy; and invisible; resembling the

beloved wife of Rahu's enemy, Rohini, brilliant with the lustre of the

latter, when she is forlorn in consequence of her lover being afflicted

by that planet; like unto a mountain stream shrunk up, having its waters

turbid and slightly heated, and its fowls burning in the heat; and with

its fishes, alligators and other aquatic animals rendered lean;

resembling a flame of fire devoid of smoke and streaming up in golden

splendour, next sprinkled with clarified butter, and lastly appearing

with its crest extinguished; with armour scattered all round, and sick

elephants and horses and cars and standards,--and heroes lying dead,--in

distress; like unto an army in a mighty encounter; resembling the silent

ripples of the ocean raised by the gentle breeze, which ere now (in the

shapes of surges) were heaving, brimming over with foam and sending

forth roars; like a silent dais after the sacrifice is over, without the

sacrificial appurtenances, without worthy priests; like unto the wife of

a youthful ox, exercised with anxiety on having been forsaken by her

favorite ox, staying in distress in a pen, abstaining from fresh grass;

like unto a string of new pearls divorced from noble, mild-gleaming

rubies and other excellent gems; like a star on the expiration of its

virtue, moving from its' place, and dislodged from heaven, dropping to

the earth with its brightness contracted; like a blossoming creeper at

the end of spring with maddened _Bhramaras_[194] suddenly rendered

nerveless in consequence of being caught by a forest fire; with her

merchants plunged in grief, and her shops and stalls closed; like the

welkin covered with clouds, and having its moon and stars hid; like an

unclean, uncovered spot used for drinking, with all the wine drained,

and scattered with broken bowls, and with the tipplers lying dead; like

unto a reservoir with its terrace riven, filled with broken pots, and

lying with its pillars crushed; like a long strong bow-string fixed on a

bow furnished with nooses, falling off the bow to the ground, being

snapped in consequence of the pressure of the arrow; like a mare,

suddenly urged on by a rider skilled in battle, lying (on the ground),

having been slain by the hostile forces.

That son of Dacaratha, the beauteous Bharata, while proceeding on his

car, addressed the charioteer as he drove that best of cars, saying,

"Why do I not hear as formerly the solemn sounds of song and

instrumental music spreading on all sides in Ayodhya? And there doth not

breathe around the aroma of liquor, or the perfume of garlands, or the

incense of _aguru_ and sandal. And on Rama being banished, in this city

is not heard the mild neighing of steeds, the rattle of vehicles, the

roar of mad elephants, or the mighty clatter of arms. And on Rama having

repaired to the forest, youthful folk stricken with sorrow do not enjoy

the incense of _aguru_ and sandal, or costly fresh chaplets. And persons

bearing variegated garlands do not walk abroad; and no festivities are

celebrated in the city stricken with grief on account of Rama. Surely,

the grace of the city hath gone away with my brother. Surely, that

Ayodhya doth not look beautiful like an autumnal night with showers

pouring down. When shall my brother, coming hither like a carnival,

gladden all hearts in Ayodhya like rain in summer? And the highways

shall be graced with young people elegantly attired and bearing

themselves bravely in Ayodhya." Having said this in grief, Bharata in

company with the charioteer entered Ayodhya and immediately went to the

residence of his father, bereft of that foremost of men, like a cavern

bereft of its lion. Seeing the inner apartment shorn of its splendour,

like a day deprived of the sun, mourned by the deities, and everywhere

unclean, the self-possessed Bharata, mowed by grief, began to drop

tears.

[194] Black bees.

The Rāmāyana, Volume 1. Bālakāndam and Ayodhyākāndam · 第 114 / 118 章