Nala thus bereft of kingdom — with his wife to slavery sunk, Forth king Bhima sent the Brahmins — Nala through the world to seek. Thus the royal Bhima charged them — with abundant wealth supplied:— “Go ye now and seek king Nala — Damayanti seek, my child:
And, achieved this weighty business — found Nishadha's royal lord, Whosoe'er shall hither bring them — shall a thousand kine receive; And a royal grant for maintenance— of a village like a town. If nor hither Damayanti — nor king Nala may be brought,
Know we where they are, rich guerdon — still we give, ten hundred kine.” Thus addressed, the joyful Brahmins — went to every clime of earth, Through the cities, through the kingdoms — seeking Nala and his queen: Nala, or king Bhima's daughter — in no place might they behold.
Then a Brahmin, named Sudeva — came to pleasant Chedi-pur; There within the kingly palace — he Vidarbha's daughter saw, Standing with the fair Sunanda — on a royal holiday. With her beauty once so peerless — worthy now of little praise,
Like the sun-light feebly shining — through the dimness of a cloud. Gazing on the large-eyed princess — dull in look, and wasted still, Lo, he thought, king Bhima's daughter — pondering thus within his mind.— “Even as once I wont to see her — such is yonder woman's form,
I my work have done, beholding — like the goddess world-adored, Like the full moon, darkly beauteous — with her fair and swelling breasts, Her, the queen, that with her brightness — makes each clime devoid of gloom, With her lotus eyes expanding — like Manmatha's queen divine;
Like the moonlight in its fulness — the desire of all the world. From Vidarbha's pleasant waters — her by cruel fate plucked up, Like a lotus flower uprooted — with the mire and dirt around: Like the pallid night, when Rahu— swallows up the darkened moon:
For her husband wan with sorrow — like a gentle stream dried up; Like a pool, where droops the lotus — whence the affrighted birds have fled, By the elephant's proboscis — in its quiet depths disturbed. Tender, soft-limbed, in a palace — fit, of precious stones, to dwell.
Like the lotus stem, uprooted — parched and withered by the sun. Fair in form, in soul as generous — worthy of all bliss, unbless'd, Like the young moon's slender crescent — in the heavens by dark clouds veiled. Widowed now of all love's pleasures — of her noble kin despoiled,
Wretched, bearing life, her husband — in her hope again to see. To the unadorned, a husband— is the chiefest ornament; Of her husband if forsaken — she in splendour is not bright. Difficult must be the trial — does king Nala, reft of her,
Still retain his wretched body — nor with sorrow pine away? Her with her dark flowing tresses — with her long and lotus eyes, Worthy of all joy, thus joyless — as I see, my soul is wrung. To the furthest shore of sorrow — when will pass this beauteous queen?
To her husband reunited — as the moon's brideto the moon? Her recovering shall king Nala — to his happiness return, King, albeit despoiled of kingdom — he his realm shall reassume; In their age and virtues equal — equal in their noble race,
He alone of her is worthy — worthy she alone of him. Me beseems it of that peerless — of that brave and prudent king, To console the loyal consort — pining for her husband's sight. Her will I address with comfort — with her moonlike glowing face.
Her with woe once unacquainted — woful now and lost in thought.” Thus when he had gazed and noted — all her marks, her features well, To the daughter of king Bhima — thus the sage Sudeva spake: “I am named Sudeva, lady — I, thy brother's chosen friend,
By king Bhima's royal mandate — hither come in search of thee. Well thy sire, thy royal mother — well thy noble brethren fare, And well fare those little infants — well and happy are they both. For thy sake thy countless kindred — sit as though of sense bereft:
Seeking thee a hundred Brahmins — now are wandering o'er the earth.” She no sooner knew Sudeva — Damayanti, of her kin, Many a question asked in order — and of every friend beloved. And the daughter of Vidarbha — freely wept, so sudden thus
On Sudeva, best of Brahmins — gazing, on her brother's friend. Her beheld the young Sunanda — weeping, wasted with distress, As she thus her secret converse — with the wise Sudeva held. Thus she spake unto her mother — “Lo, how fast our handmaid weeps,
Since her meeting with the Brahmin — who she is, thou now may'st know.” Forth the king of Chedi's mother — from the inner chamber went, And she passed where with the Brahmin — that mysterious woman stood. Them the mother queen Sudeva — bade before her presence stand;
And she asked, “Whose wife, whose daughter — may this noble stranger be? From her kindred how dissevered — from her husband, the soft-eyed? Is she known to thee, O Brahmin — canst thou tell from whence she came? This I fain would hear, and clearly — all her strange and wonderous tale.
Tell me all that hath befallen — to this heaven-formed, plainly tell.” Best of Brahmins, thus Sudeva — by the mother queen addressed, All the truth of Damayanti — sitting at his ease, declared.
Cookies on Poetry Cove