Joy reigned in heaven where every eye Had seen the Lord of Lanká die. In cars whose sheen surpassed the sun's Triumphant rode the radiant ones: And Rávan's death, by every tongue. And Ráma's glorious deeds were sung. They praised the Vánars true and brave, The counsel wise Sugríva gave.
The deeds of Hanumán they told, The valiant chief supremely bold, The strong ally, the faithful friend. And Sitá's truth which naught could bend. To Mátali, whom Indra sent, His head the son of Raghu bent: And he with fiery steeds who clove The clouds again to Swarga drove.
Round King Sugríva brave and true His arms in rapture Ráma threw, Looked on the host with joy and pride, And thus to noble Lakshman cried: 'Now let king-making drops be shed, Dear brother, on Vibhíshan's head For truth and friendship nobly shown, And make him lord of Rávan's throne.'
This longing of his heart he told: And Lakshman took an urn of gold And bade the wind-fleet Vánars bring Sea water for the giants' king. The brimming urn was swiftly brought: Then on a throne superbly wrought Vibhíshan sat, the giants' lord, And o'er his brows the drops were poured.
As Raghu's son the rite beheld His loving heart with rapture swelled: But tenderer thoughts within him woke, And thus to Hanumán he spoke: 'Go to my queen: this message give: Say Lakshman and Sugríva live. The death of Lanká's monarch tell, And bid her joy, for all is well.'
