Ramayana 1.18

Ramayana · translated by Ralph T.H. Griffith

Then glorious Brahma,(47) Lord Most High, Creator of the earth and sky, The four-faced God, to meet the sage Came to Valmiki's hermitage. Soon as the mighty God he saw, Up sprang the saint in wondering awe. Mute, with clasped hands, his head he bent, And stood before him reverent. His honoured guest he greeted well, Who bade him of his welfare tell; Gave water for his blessed feet, Brought offerings,(48) and prepared a seat. In honoured place the God Most High Sate down, and bade the saint sit nigh. There sate before Valmiki's eyes The Father of the earth and skies; But still the hermit's thoughts were bent On one thing only, all intent On that poor curlew's mournful fate Lamenting for her slaughtered mate; And still his lips, in absent mood, The verse that told his grief, renewed: "Woe to the fowler's impious hand That did the deed that folly planned; That could to needless death devote The curlew of the tuneful throat!"

Ramayana 1.18 · Ramayana · 1

Themes in this passage

The Divine Nature Creation Death Family Grief Karma Poverty

The Divine in other traditions

The same theme, as Christianity, Islam, Buddhism and Hellenism address it.

Nevertheless the LORD thy God would not hearken unto Balaam; but the LORD thy God turned the curse into a blessing unto thee, because the LORD thy God loved thee.

Deuteronomy 23:5 · Bible · Deuteronomy

Allah, your Lord and Lord of your forefathers?

Quran 37:126 · Quran · The Rangers

Self is the lord of self, who else could be the lord? With self well subdued, a man finds a lord such as few can find.

Dhp 12.160 · Dhammapada · Self

Saturnia lends the lash; the coursers fly; Smooth glides the chariot through the liquid sky. Heaven’s gates spontaneous open to the powers, Heaven’s golden gates, kept by the winged Hours. Commission’d in alternate watch they stand, The sun’s bright portals and the skies command; Close, or unfold, the eternal gates of day Bar heaven with clouds, or roll those clouds away. The sounding hinges ring, the clouds divide. Prone down the steep of heaven their course they guide. But Jove, incensed, from Ida’s top survey’d, And thus enjoin’d the many-colour’d maid.

Iliad 8.29 · Iliad · 8

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