In plain words
Janaka was watching from above: how would she get out the ball that had fallen under the bow, this Sītā? he wondered. Sītā did not notice him watching. After a while, smiling to herself, she went and pulled the bow aside with her left hand. Śiva's bow moved easily. Janaka saw this. “Sītā is no ordinary one”; “such a strong Sītā has come to me through the merit of birth after birth,” he thought to himself. That very day Janaka resolved, “Sītā, who moved this bow of Śiva, must be given in marriage only to the one who lifts Śiva's bow.” For this he held a great yajña. All the kings came to lift Śiva's bow. All the young kings came, wanting to marry Sītā. Among them was the demon Rāvaṇa too. He was very mighty; no one can say what his age was. No one can find out how great his strength was. Then they had that bow of Śiva dragged in by some hundreds of elephants. One after another they came, wanting to marry Sītā. Rāvaṇa too came forward. When Rāvaṇa came, everyone was afraid at the sight of his form. “Is this wicked, hideous fellow to marry Sītā, so delicate and lovely?” they thought. Sītā's mother Sunayanā: “Alas! Must my delicate child be given to a wicked one like this, a fool? He must not win in this attempt,” she prayed to Śiva; she closed her eyes. Just then Rāvaṇa tried to raise Śiva's bow. But he could not; he fell down. Śiva's bow fell right on top of him too. There was no one to lift it. There was no one to pull him free either. Such was the plight Rāvaṇa fell into. Seeing this situation, Viśvāmitra signed to Rāma to go and lift the bow. “Go and lift it,” he said. Lakṣmaṇa was watching everything. He could see, too, the treatment Rāvaṇa had received. “No such treatment, no such dishonour will come to my brother,” Lakṣmaṇa thought, and he stood unafraid. Rāma, delicate and handsome, came slowly, step by step. At the very sight of that gait many rejoiced. Seeing that face, they were happier still. That handsome one came. He lifted Śiva's bow with His left hand.