Rāma at His Hermitage

The poem was made long after Rāma had first come to Vālmīki. Years before, when Rāma went into exile in the forest with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa, he came on his way to Vālmīki's hermitage near the hill of Citrakūṭa, full of sages and of birds and beasts, with flowers and fruit in every season. He bowed his head before Vālmīki with Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā, and the sage sprang up and looked at him without blinking, his eyes full of tears of joy, and embraced him. He honoured Rāma and fed him with sweet roots and fruit.

Rāma folded his hands and said humbly, We have come to the forest at our father's command. You know why already; what need is there for me to tell you? Tell me a place where I can live happily with Sītā for a while.

The sage smiled. You are yourself the dwelling of all the worlds, he said, and all beings are your dwelling place. But since you ask me for a place, I will tell you where you truly live. The hearts of those who are at peace, who look on all beings alike, who hate no creature, and who worship you alone: that is your home. Those who repeat your name and have taken refuge in you alone, who are free of the pairs of opposites, such as pleasure and pain, and of longing: their heart is your lovely temple. Those who look on a clod of earth, a stone and gold alike, whose minds are fixed on you, who are content, and who offer you all their actions: their mind is your home.

And then he told Rāma how he himself had once been a robber in the forest, and how seven sages had given him Rāma's name turned backward, and how by repeating it he had become a brahmin seer. By the power of your name I became what I am, he said, and today I see you face to face, with Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa. Come, Rāma, I will show you a fitting place. And he took them to a spot between the mountain and the river and had a fine dwelling built for them there, and they lived there happily for a while, honoured by the sage.