As Hanuman journeyed on his quest, he faced many trials and wonders. He was threatened by the fearsome demoness, encountered the shadow-grasper, and destroyed Simhika, the one who seized shadows. Pressing onward, he beheld the distant sight of Lanka and the Malaya mountains. Under the cover of night, Hanuman entered Lanka. Alone, he reflected on his purpose, then made his way to the place where the demons drank, and there he saw the guarded enclosure. Within Lanka, he caught sight of the mighty Ravana and beheld the wondrous Pushpaka chariot. He entered the Ashoka grove, and at last, his eyes fell upon Sita. Hanuman gave Sita a token of recognition from Rama, spoke comforting words to her, and witnessed the threats made by the demonesses who guarded her. He also saw the vision that Trijata, one of the demonesses, had in her dream. Hanuman then presented Sita with Rama’s jewel, broke a tree in his might, caused the demonesses to flee in terror, and destroyed the Kinkaras who came to challenge him. Eventually, Hanuman was captured, but he roared mightily as he set Lanka ablaze and then made his return journey, pausing to partake of honey. Upon returning, he consoled Rama, handed over Sita’s jewel, and the monkeys reached the ocean’s shore. There, under Nala’s guidance, they built a bridge spanning the sea. The mighty army crossed the ocean and besieged Lanka by night. They forged an alliance with Vibhishana, Ravana’s righteous brother, who revealed the means by which Ravana could be slain. In the ensuing battle, Kumbhakarna was destroyed, Meghanada defeated, and at last, Ravana was annihilated. Sita was recovered in the city by the sea. Vibhishana was consecrated as king of Lanka. The Pushpaka chariot appeared, and Rama, along with his companions, journeyed back to Ayodhya, meeting the sage Bharadvaja along the way. Hanuman was dispatched ahead, and there was a joyful meeting with Bharata. Rama’s consecration as king was celebrated as an auspicious occasion; the armies were dismissed, the kingdom rejoiced, and Vaidehī, Sita, was sent away. All other deeds and events concerning Rama that were yet to unfold upon the earth, the venerable sage Valmiki composed as the later portion of his poem. Thus concludes the fourth sarga in the Bālakāṇḍa of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa. It was the venerable sage Valmiki who composed the entire wondrous story of Rama, who had regained his kingdom, imbuing it with profound words and meaning. He uttered twenty-four thousand verses, arranged into five hundred sargas, six kāṇḍas, and a supplementary Uttara section. Having completed this great work—including even events yet to come—the wise sage pondered, “Who indeed shall recite this tale?” He looked upon the two sons of the king, Kuśa and Lava, righteous and renowned brothers with melodious voices, dwelling in the hermitage. Seeing their intelligence and mastery of the Vedas, Valmiki taught them the poem, thus enhancing the Vedic tradition. The sage, steadfast in his vows, composed the entire Rāmāyaṇa, the great story of Sita, and the destruction of Ravana, the son of Pulastya. This poem was sweet to recite and sing, constructed with three measures, endowed with seven kinds of metres, and accompanied by strings and rhythm. Filled with the sentiments of love, compassion, humor, fury, terror, heroism, and more, Kuśa and Lava sang it with devotion. Skilled in music, intonation, and modulation, their melodious voices made them appear like incarnate Gandharvas. Endowed with beauty and auspicious marks, their speech was sweet; they seemed as if they were images born from the very body of Rama. Having mastered the entire noble and righteous narrative, the two royal sons rendered the poem flawlessly. In gatherings of sages, the twice-born, and the virtuous, they sang as instructed, with full concentration and understanding of the essence. Great-souled and greatly fortunate, adorned with all auspicious marks, at times they would sing among the assembled sages of purified minds. Standing in the midst of the assembly, they sang the poem, and as the sages listened, their eyes brimmed with tears. Overcome with wonder, the sages exclaimed, “Excellent! Excellent!” and were filled with joy. They praised the two Kuśīlava singers, declaring, “Ah, the sweetness of this song, and especially of the verses!” Though these events had happened long ago, the story was made present before the listeners’ eyes, so vividly did the brothers sing and embody the tale. Together, they sang sweetly, with passion and accomplished melody, and the great sages renowned for their austerity praised them. As Kuśa and Lava sang with ever greater passion and sweetness, one delighted sage gave them a water pot, another a bark garment, another a black antelope skin, and yet another a sacred thread. Others bestowed a water vessel, a girdle of muñja grass, a staff, and a loincloth. One gave an axe, another ochre robes, another a garment of bark. Some gave a matted hair band, a wooden rope, ritual vessels, or a bundle of firewood. One sage presented a staff of udumbara wood, some offered blessings, and others joyfully pronounced words of long life. Thus, all the truth-speaking sages gave them gifts, saying, “This wondrous tale has been proclaimed by the sage.” This is the supreme foundation of poets, completed in proper order, a song sung by those skilled in all songs. It brings long life, generates strength, and delights all who hear it. Wherever they performed, the two singers were praised by all.