Week 10 Story: A Poem of Sita Stolen

Author’s Note: This poem is over the story of Sita Stolen from Sister Nivedita’s retelling of the Ramayana.  I wanted to capitalize on some of the images I saw in the original story, because Sister Nivedita’s language is very beautiful and descriptive.

Armed tooth and wicked brow,

ten heads rest on one shoulder

in mirror of the other.

A twenty hands reach out

with shield and all things of malice

made from bronze, silver, and gold.

Yellow bled red, eyes bloody instead

of hands which could be convicted

based on tint alone.

Disguised, a proper prayer

he does bear to the luxury

of stunning eyes –

            Oh, Sita,

            we beg you,

            be aware!

Sita, peaceful and besotted,

garnering her own palace

in the kingdom of beasts

waits in the forest

for the preying of the bear

upon the Golden Deer.

Oh, Ravana,

sealer of your own fate,

know not of the fruitless

struggle, taste the nectar

of your own rotting pit.

You carried the beggar’s bowl

and cared not for the beggar’s wisdom

in taking the bride of Rama,

the gentle thing who tames that Holy Beast.

The Gods rejoice in your downfall,

in your cursed desire for mortal pleasures

of something beautiful and intangible

for the stain of your hands

would paint her a deeper shade

as your tomb was made.

Image Source: RitSin