Brahmā's Command

Then Brahmā himself, the four-faced creator of the worlds, came to see the great sage. Vālmīki rose at once, silent, with folded hands, full of wonder. He offered Brahmā water for his feet and a seat, and bowed, and asked after his welfare. Brahmā sat down on a seat of honour and told the sage to sit too.

But even with Brahmā sitting before him, Vālmīki's mind was still on what he had seen. A wicked man full of hatred did a cruel thing, he thought, killing for nothing a krauñca with so sweet a voice. And grieving again for the female bird, he spoke the same verse again.

Brahmā smiled and said to him, What you have made is a verse. Do not doubt it. This flow of speech came to you by my will. Now tell the whole story of Rāma, best of seers, the story of the wise and good Rāma, whose soul is fixed in dharma, as you heard it from Nārada. Tell what is known and what is hidden of him, of Lakṣmaṇa, of the rākṣasas and of Sītā, and even what you do not know will become known to you. Not one word of yours in this poem will be false. Make this holy and delightful story of Rāma in verse. As long as the mountains stand and the rivers flow upon the earth, so long will the story of the Rāmāyaṇa be told in the worlds, and so long will you live in my worlds. And Brahmā vanished.

The sage and his disciples were filled with wonder, and the disciples sang the verse again and again in delight, saying to one another, The great sage's grief, sung in four quarters of equal syllables, has become a śloka by being spoken again. And the thought took shape in Vālmīki's purified mind: I will make the whole Rāmāyaṇa in verses like this one.