अल्पोष्णक्षुब्धसलिलां धर्मोत्तप्तविहङ्गमाम् । लीनमीनझषग्राहां कृशां गिरिनदीमिव ।। २.११४.
Like a mountain stream, thin, with little water, disturbed, its birds driven away by drought, its fish, crocodiles, and alligators hidden, and its course diminished.
विधूमामिव हेमाभामध्वराग्ने: समुत्थिताम् । हविरभ्युक्षितां पश्चात् शिखां विप्रलयं गताम् ।। २.११४.
Like a sacrificial flame, golden-bright but without smoke, which, after the oblation has been poured, rises up and then is extinguished.
विध्वस्तकवचां रुग्णजवाजिरथध्वजाम् । हतप्रवीरामापन्नां चमूमिव महाहवे ।। २.११४.
Like an army in a great battle, its armor shattered, its horses, chariots, and banners destroyed, its heroes slain, and fallen into misfortune.
सफेना सस्वना भूत्वा सागरस्य समुत्थिताम् । प्रशान्तमारुतोद्घातां जलोर्मिमिव निस्वनाम् ।। २.११४.
Like a wave of the ocean, once foaming and resounding, now stilled by the calming wind, its roar silenced.
त्यक्तां यज्ञायुधै: सर्वैरभिरूपैश्च याजकै: । सुत्याकाले विनिर्वृत्ते वेदिं गतरवामिव ।। २.११४.
Like an altar, abandoned by all the priests and their splendid sacrificial implements, left silent after the completion of the Soma sacrifice.
गोष्ठमध्ये स्थितामार्त्तामचरन्तीं तृणं नवम् । गोवृषेण परित्यक्तां गवां पत्तिमिवोत्सुकाम् ।। २.११४.
Like a cow, standing distressed in the midst of the herd, wandering in search of fresh grass, abandoned by the bull, longing for the leader of the cows.
प्रभाकराद्यै: सुस्निग्धै: प्रज्वलद्भिरिवोत्तमै: । वियुक्तां मणिभिर्जात्यैर्नवां मुक्तावलीमिव ।। २.११४.
Like a new string of pearls, separated from its finest, radiant, and well-polished gems, shining like the sun's rays.
सहसा चलितां स्थानान्महीं पुण्यक्षयाद्गताम् । संहृतद्युतिविस्तारां तारामिव दिवश्च्युताम् ।। २.११४.
Like a star, suddenly fallen from the sky, its brilliance and expanse withdrawn, cast down to earth by the loss of its merit.
पुष्पनद्धां वसन्तान्ते मत्तभ्रमरनादिताम् । द्रुतदावाग्निविप्लुष्टां क्लान्तां वनलतामिव ।। २.११४.
Like a forest creeper, adorned with flowers at the end of spring, resounding with the hum of intoxicated bees, now withered and exhausted, scorched by a swift forest fire.
सम्मूढनिगमां स्तब्धां संक्षिप्तविपणापणाम् । प्रच्छन्नशऺशिनक्षत्रां द्यामिवाम्बुधरैर्वृताम् ।। २.११४.
Like the sky, veiled by clouds, its moon and stars concealed; like a city, its markets and shops closed, its sacred texts confused and silent.
क्षीणपानोत्तमैर्भिन्नै: शरावैरभिसंवृताम् । हतशौण्डामिवाकाशे पानभूमिमसंस्कृताम् ।। २.११४.
Like a drinking ground, left unswept, covered with broken and emptied cups of the finest liquors, its revelers gone.
वृक्णभूमितलां निम्नां वृक्णपात्रै: समावृताम् । उपयुक्तोदकां भग्नां प्रपां निपतितामिव ।। २.११४.
Like a ruined well, its ground cracked and sunken, surrounded by broken vessels, its water used up, collapsed and fallen.
विपुलां विततां चैव युक्तपाशां तरस्विनाम् । भूमौ बाणैर्विनिष्कृत्तां पतितां ज्यामिवायुधात् ।। २.११४.
Like a great bow, strung and drawn by the strong, now cut by arrows and fallen to the ground, its cord snapped.
सहसा युद्धशौण्डेन हयारोहेण वाहिताम् । निक्षिप्तभाण्डामुत्सृष्टां किशोरीमिव दुर्बलाम् ।। २.११४.
Like a young girl, suddenly abandoned by a valiant horseman in battle, her ornaments cast aside, left weak and helpless.
शुष्कतोयां महामत्स्यै: कूर्मैश्च बहुभिर्वृताम् । प्रभिन्नतटविस्तीर्णां वापीमिव हृतोत्पलाम् ।। २.११४.
Like a vast reservoir, its water dried up, filled with many large fish and turtles, its banks broken and its lotuses gone.
पुरुषस्याप्रहृष्टस्य प्रतिषिद्धानुलेपनाम् । सन्तप्तामिव शोकेन गात्रयष्टिमभूषणाम् ।। २.११४.
Like a woman, sorrowful and unadorned, her body scorched by grief, forbidden to use ointments, left without ornaments.
प्रावृषि प्रविगाढायां प्रविष्टस्याभ्रमण्डलम् । प्रच्छन्नां नीलजीमूतैर्भास्करस्य प्रभामिव ।। २.११४.
Like the sun's light, hidden by dark clouds in the rainy season, when it has entered the mass of clouds and is concealed by blue thunderclouds.
भरतस्तु रथस्थ: सन् श्रीमान् दशरथात्मज: । वाहयन्तं रथश्रेष्ठं सारथिं वाक्यमब्रवीत् ।। २.११४.
But Bharata, the illustrious son of Dasharatha, standing in his chariot, spoke these words to the charioteer who was driving the excellent chariot.
किं नु खल्वद्य गम्भीरो मूर्च्छितो न निशम्यते । यथापुरमयोध्यायां गीतवादित्रनिस्वन: ।। २.११४.
Why is it that today the deep, vibrant sound of singing and instruments is not heard in Ayodhya as it was before?
वारुणीमदगन्धश्च माल्यगन्धश्च मूर्च्छित: । धूपितागरुगन्धश्च न प्रवाति समन्तत: ।। २.११४.
The scent of wine and garlands is faded, and the fragrance of incense and aloe wood no longer drifts everywhere.
यानप्रवरघोषश्च स्निग्धश्च हयनिस्वन: । प्रमत्तगजनादश्च महांश्च रथनिस्वन: । नेदानीं श्रूयते पुर्यामस्यां रामे विवासिते ।। २.११४.
The sounds of splendid chariots, the gentle neighing of horses, the trumpeting of intoxicated elephants, and the great clatter of carriages are no longer heard in this city now that Rāma has been exiled.
चन्दनागरुगन्धांश्च महार्हाश्च नवस्रज: । गते हि रामे तरुणा: सन्तप्ता नोपभुञ्जते ।। २.११४.
With Rāma gone, the young women, distressed, no longer adorn themselves with precious sandalwood, aloe, and fresh garlands.
बहिर्यात्रां न गच्छन्ति चित्रमाल्यधरा नरा: । नोत्सवा: सम्प्रवर्त्तन्ते रामशोकार्दिते पुरे ।। २.११४.
Men wearing beautiful garlands do not go out for excursions, and festivals are not celebrated in the city, afflicted by grief for Rāma.
सह नूनं मम भ्रात्रा पुरस्यास्यद्युतिर्गता । नहि राजत्ययोध्येयं सासारेवार्जुनी क्षपा ।। २.११४.
Surely, with my brother, the radiance of this city has departed; Ayodhya does not shine, just as a night with only ashes does not glow.
कदा नु खलु मे भ्राता महोत्सव इवागत: । जनयिष्यत्ययोध्यायां हर्षं ग्रीष्म इवाम्बुद: ।। २.११४.
When will my brother return like a great festival, bringing joy to Ayodhya as clouds bring relief to the summer?
तरुणैश्चारुवेषैश्च नरैरुन्नतगामिभि: । सम्पतद्भिरयोध्यायां नाभिभान्ति महापथा: ।। २.११४.
The main roads of Ayodhya are no longer crowded with young men, splendidly dressed, moving with proud steps.
एवं बहुविधं जल्पन् विवेश वसतिं पितु: । तेन हीनां नरेन्द्रेण सिंहहीनां गुहामिव ।। २.११४.
Speaking in many such ways, he entered his father's residence, now bereft of its king, like a cave abandoned by a lion.
तदा तदन्त:पुरमुज्झितप्रभं सुरैरिवोत्सृष्टमभास्करं दिनम् । निरीक्ष्य सर्वन्तु विविक्तमात्मवान् मुमोच बाष्पं भरत: सुदु:खित: ।। २.११४.
Then, seeing the inner chambers deserted of their brilliance, like a day without the sun, abandoned by the gods, the self-controlled Bharata, deeply distressed, shed tears.
इत्यार्षे श्रीमद्रामायणे वाल्मीकीये आदिकाव्ये श्रीमदयोध्याकाण्डे चतुर्दशोत्तरशततम: सर्ग:
Thus ends the one hundred fourteenth sarga of the glorious Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa in the ancient and revered Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa.
thumb|पञ्चदशाधिकशततमः सर्गः श्रूयताम्|center ततो निक्षिप्य मातऽ: स अयोध्यायां दृढव्रत: । भरत: शोकसन्तप्तो गुरूनिदमथाब्रवीत् ।। २.११५.
Then, having settled his mothers in Ayodhya, the steadfast Bharata, tormented by grief, spoke these words to his elders.