Note: This part of the Ramcharitmanas contains a description of the rainy season which is rich in metaphors. This episode takes place a little after the warrior Bali has been killed by Lord Rama and Bali’s timid brother Sugriv has been handed over his kingdom. Lord Rama and younger brother Laxman are staying in the Sundar-ban forest during that rainy season – awaiting Sugriv to get his act together – so an intensive search for Sita can be initiated.

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Fine flowers do grace – Sundar-ban so
And wasps, they hum – by nectars, go

Those flowers, and leaves – and fruits, and vine
Since Lord He came – so many, so fine

On pleasant mount – like which were none
Settled King of gods – with kin, the one

As bees, as birds – and bodies, like deer
All saints, all gods – served Lord with cheer

And forest then – auspicious became
As Ra-maa’s Master – dwelled in same

On boulder white – beautiful hue
Seated serene – the brothers two

And thoughts with kin – many shared He so
On faith, on self – polity, forgo

Season of rains – with skies of cloud
Such thunder – yet such beauty proud

Laxman, behold peacocks – they dance
As rain they see – in abundance

No more deadpan – now full of glee
Like Vishnu, when – sees devotee

Loud thunder claps – thick cloudy sky
My heart all dread – darling not by

And lightning flash – through clouds in sky
Like wicked love – it’s fleeting by

And raining clouds – near earth they hover
Humbling knowledge – sages discover

Great mounts take in – drops hit as such
Like gentle souls – foul words not touch

And rivulets – so over they flow
Little wealth as does – puff evil so

That water clings earth – so ankle-deep
As life to bound – illusions, keep

And pond fills up – with drops intake
Bit virtues, they – folks gentle make

Those river streams – end sea they in
For final rest – man’s soul in Him

This ground all same – as grass grows free
All land looks green – no path to see

Like dogmas and rituals – they hide
All knowledge that – lies deep inside

And frogs, their croaks – all sides they fly
As learning groups – rote Vedas by

And look, new leaf – on trees abound
Good judgment by – true trainee found

But trees, for some – not one leaf blade
When wicked rule – efforts not made

Search all you want – no dust, no grime
As rage drives out – the faith sublime

All earth now rich – and beauty treads
As wealth earned for – altruistic deeds

Those great rains break – banks, edges go
As left all free – blight women so

Pull weeds then, smart – some farmers, free
Shed yearnings, pride – and scholars see

And love-birds are – not seen around
So lost is faith – discords when hound

On desert land – no grass can grow
Nor heart in God – attachment know

Many creatures, large – and small, arrive
In freedom, masses – live and thrive

And travelers pause – all over, at will
As knowledge makes – sensory, so still

When wind just comes – powerful, one
Those clouds then scatter – gone, but none

Like takes just one – of evil bend
To virtues, for – whole clan, to end

At times, the day – looks dark, as dusk
Yet lights it up – when sun does lurk

So knowledge – will enhance, or not
As band would we – with good, or rot