Sarga 7

Those roaring demon-clouds, like actual clouds showering rain upon a mountain, indeed showered a rain of arrows upon the mountain-like Narayana (Vishnu/Rama).

The dark-complexioned and radiant Vishnu, surrounded by those blue, best of night-wanderers, became like a collyrium mountain being showered upon by clouds.

Just as locusts swarm a field, mosquitoes a mountain, flies a pot of nectar, and crocodiles the ocean, so too did the arrows approach Hari.

Similarly, arrows released from the bows of demons, possessing the speed of lightning, wind, and mind, entered Hari, just as all beings merge into the supreme at the time of cosmic dissolution.

Those who rode in chariots, those on elephant-backs, horse-riders with their horses, and foot-soldiers, all were positioned in the sky.

The mountain-like demon lords, using arrows, spears, lances, and javelins, rendered Hari breathless, just as breath control exercises make a brahmin breathless.

Being tormented by the night-wanderers like the great ocean by fish, the unconquerable one drew his Sharnga bow and discharged arrows at the demons.

With sharp arrows, fully drawn and released, having thunderbolt-like points and swift as thought, Vishnu cut them down by hundreds and then by thousands.

Having dispersed the rain of arrows with his own arrows, just as wind disperses rain, the best among men blew his great conch, Panchajanya.

That water-born king of conches, blown by Hari with all his might, roared with a terrible sound, as if terrifying the three worlds.

Then, the sound of the king of conches terrified the Rākṣasas, just as a lion in the forest frightens maddened elephants.

The horses were unable to stand still, the elephants lost their ichor and strength, and warriors, weakened by the conch's sound, fell from their chariots.

Arrows released from the Śārṅga bow, with points like thunderbolts, tore through those Rākṣasas and, with their well-feathered shafts, penetrated the earth.

Being pierced by arrows released from Nārāyaṇa's hand in battle, the Rākṣasas fell to the ground like mountains struck by a thunderbolt.

From the enemies' bodies, wounds made by Viṣṇu's discus indeed streamed blood in torrents, resembling mountains from which streams of gold flow.

The sound of Viṣṇu's conch and the twang of his Śārṅga bow completely overpower and swallow the roars of the Rākṣasas.

Hari, with his arrows, severed their necks, and cut down their arrows, banners, bows, chariots, flags, and quivers.

Just as terrible rays emanate from the sun, waves from the ocean, great elephants from mountains, and torrents of rain from a cloud, so too did arrows emerge.

Similarly, arrows released from the Śārṅga bow and propelled by Nārāyaṇa rushed forth swiftly by hundreds and thousands.

Just as lions are overcome by a Śarabha, elephants by a lion, tigers by an elephant, and leopards by a tiger, so too were the Rākṣasas overwhelmed.

Just as dogs are afraid of a leopard, cats of a dog, snakes of a cat, and mice of a snake, so too were the rakshasas.

Similarly, all those rakshasas fled from the all-powerful Vishnu, while others were put to flight or laid dead on the ground.

Having slain thousands of rakshasas, Madhusudana blew his conch, just as the king of gods (Indra) causes a cloud to thunder.

The routed rakshasa army, terrified by Narayana's arrows and greatly bewildered by the sound of his conch, fled towards Lanka.

When the rakshasa army was routed and struck by Narayana's arrows, Sumali, in battle, obstructed Hari with a shower of arrows.

He covered him like mist covers the sun, and the Rakshasas, filled with courage, regained their composure.

Then, that Rakshasa, proud of his strength, rushed forward in anger, making a great roar as if to revive the other Rakshasas.

Lifting his long ornaments and shaking them like an elephant shakes its trunk, the Rakshasa roared with joy, just like a thunderous cloud.

(He) cut off the head of the roaring Sumali, which was adorned with shining earrings, and the horses of that Rakshasa's charioteer became bewildered.

Sumali, the lord of Rakshasas, was whirled around by those bewildered horses, just as a man devoid of steadfastness is bewildered by the horses of his senses.

Then, as Vishnu's chariot was carried away by Sumali's horses, the mighty-armed Vishnu was seen falling down in the battlefield.

Mali, ready and holding his bow with arrows, rushed towards Vishnu, and the gold-adorned arrows released from his bow pierced Vishnu, just as birds enter the Krauncha mountain.

Though tormented by thousands of arrows released by Mali, Vishnu remained unagitated in battle, like a person who has controlled his senses is unaffected by mental anxieties.

Then, the divine creator of beings and destroyer of enemies, making the twang of his bowstring, released showers of arrows towards Mali.

Those arrows, shining like thunderbolts and lightning, reached Mali's body and drank his blood as if serpents were drinking nectar.

The wielder of the conch, discus, and mace turned Mali away and then struck down Mali's crown, banner, bow, and horses.

But Mali, the foremost among night-roaming demons, having lost his chariot, took up his mace and, mace in hand, sprang forward like a lion from a mountain peak.

With his mace, Mali struck the lord of Garuda on the forehead, just as Yama strikes Shiva, or as Indra strikes a mountain with his thunderbolt.

Severely struck by Mali's mace, Garuda, distressed by the pain, caused the god (Vishnu) to turn away from the battle.

When the god was indeed made to turn away by Mali (through Garuda), a great roaring sound arose from the exultant demons.

Having heard the roaring sound of the Rākṣasas, Vishnu, the younger brother of Indra, reacted.

The divine Hari, greatly enraged, stood sideways on Garuda and, even while facing away, released his discus at Māli with the intention of killing him.

That discus, resembling the sun's orb and illuminating the sky with its own brilliance, and appearing like the wheel of time, severed Māli's head.

That terrifying head of the king of Rākṣasas, severed by the discus and gushing blood, fell just as Rāhu's head had fallen in ancient times.

Then, the greatly delighted gods, exclaiming "Well done, O God!", uttered a mighty roar with all their might.

Seeing Malina slain, Sumali and Malyavan, along with their armies, were overcome with grief and fled back to Lanka.

Garuda, having recovered and returned as before, angrily chased away the Rakshasas with the powerful wind generated by his wings.

The Rakshasas had their lotus-like faces severed by the discus, their chests crushed by maces, their necks destroyed by ploughs, and their heads shattered by pestles.

Some Rakshasas were cut down by swords, others were wounded by arrows, and all of them swiftly fell from the sky into the ocean's waters.

Narayana, with excellent arrows released from his bow like thunderbolts, tore apart the night-wandering Rakshasas whose hair was loose and disheveled, just as thunderbolts tear apart great clouds accompanied by lightning.

The army became utterly frenzied, with their royal canopies shattered, weapons dropping, proper attire torn by arrows, intestines spilling out, and eyes wide with terror.

The roars and frantic movements of the Rakshasas and their elephants, tormented by the ancient lion, were like those of elephants distressed by a lion.

Those Rakshasas, like dark clouds, were repelled by the showers of arrows from the Vanaras, and abandoning their own arrows, they fled like storm clouds scattered by the wind.

The chief Rakshasas, with their heads severed by discus blows, limbs crushed by mace blows, and bodies split in two by various attacks, fell like mountains.

The falling Rakshasas, who resembled dark blue clouds and wore dangling jewel necklaces and earrings, were continuously seen falling like blue mountains being struck down. इत्यार्षे श्रीमद्रामायणे वाल्मीकीये आदिकाव्ये श्रीमदुत्तरकाण्डे सप्तमः सर्गः ।। 7 ।। Thus ends the seventh sarga of Uttara Kanda of the holy Ramayana the first epic composed by sage Valmiki.