terça-feira, maio 27, 2014

Purificação pelo fogo

Then Rama turned his face away. "I do not wish to look on you," he said. "I have avenged my wrongs and cleared my honour, but you have lived in Ravana's palace and you can no longer be my wife."
The cheering troops became silent as they heard the stern words, and Sita's eyes filled with tears. "My lord, these are cruel and unjust words," she said. "Never, even in thought, have I been unfaithful to you. Have you rescued me only to abandon me? If I had known this, I would have killed myself long ago, and I will live no longer now. Dear brother Lakshmana, prepare my funeral pile and let me enter the fire."
Lakshmana looked at Rama in horror, but Rama was silent, so with a heavy heart he obeyed, and with the help of the monkeys he prepared the pyre. Them Sita prayed: "O Agni, Lord of flame, who knows the heart, protect my body in the fire and prove me true to Rama." The flames blazed up, and Sita embraced Rama's feet and fearlessly entered the fire. 
A cry of grief and horror arose from the army, and from the citizens who watched from the walls of Lanka. Rama, seeing his beloved wife surounded by the flames, was wild with remorse. "What have I done, what have I done?", he moaned. Them the leaping flames changed to a calmer, purer light, and out of the fire rose the mighty Agni himself. He carried Sita as his daughter on his knee, more lovely than she had ever been. "Receive your faithful wife," he said to Rama, "for I know the hearts of all, and she is pure and true." The Gandharvas and the gods appeared in the skies and among them Rama beheld his father Dasaratha.
The Prince bowed his head humbly before the divine beings. Then taking Sita's hand in his, he said, "Before all these witnesses I take you as my wife. I was maddened with suspicion even though I knew your faithfulness, and I thank the gods for guarding you from harm."
Then there arose a great cry of joy and thankfulness. Thrones were made ready by eager hands, and Sita sat beside Rama in happiness while the trumpets sounded and scented flower petals were showered on their heads. 

The Story of Ramayana

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