The Sage Calls Bharata's Darshan the Fruit beyond Ram's Darshan
Ayodhya Kanda, Chaupai 210
Doha 210 · Movement 1 of 2
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Bharadvaja tells Bharata that his incomparable glory is a moon within which Ram's love moves like a gentle deer. A pauper who receives the philosopher's stone does not tremble in shame, so Bharata must release remorse.
The forest ascetic speaks without flattery. Every spiritual practice finds its beautiful fruit in the sight of Sita, Ram, and Lakshmana. Yet the fruit of that fruit, he declares, is Bharata's own darshan now blessing Prayag.
The sage calls him blessed and becomes immersed in love. Joy moves through the assembly, flowers descend, and the cry of blessed, blessed fills sky and holy ground. Hearing praise meant to free him from guilt, Bharata does not swell with pride. He disappears more deeply into devotion.
When Bharadvaja calls Bharata's darshan the fruit beyond all practice, heaven flowers and Bharata sinks further into love.
Read the passage from the Manas
कीरति बिधु तुम्ह कीन्ह अनूपा। जहँ बस राम पेम मृगरूपा।। तात गलानि करहु जियँ जाएँ। डरहु दरिद्रहि पारसु पाएँ।।।। सुनहु भरत हम झूठ न कहहीं। उदासीन तापस बन रहहीं।। सब साधन कर सुफल सुहावा। लखन राम सिय दरसनु पावा।। तेहि फल कर फलु दरस तुम्हारा। सहित पयाग सुभाग हमारा।। भरत धन्य तुम्ह जसु जगु जयऊ। कहि अस पेम मगन पुनि भयऊ।। सुनि मुनि बचन सभासद हरषे। साधु सराहि सुमन सुर बरषे।। धन्य धन्य धुनि गगन पयागा। सुनि सुनि भरतु मगन अनुरागा।।
You have raised an incomparable moon of glory, within which Rama's love dwells in the gentle form of a deer. O dear son, release the remorse from your heart. Does the pauper tremble when the philosopher's stone falls into his hands? Hear us, Bharata: we speak no falsehood. We live as detached ascetics in the forest. Every spiritual practice bears its loveliest fruit when one receives the darshan of Lakshmana, Rama, and Sita. And the fruit of that fruit is your own blessed darshan, together with the good fortune of Prayag; such is our grace. Blessed are you, Bharata; your fame has conquered the world. Speaking these words, the sage was once again lost in love. Hearing his words, the whole assembly rejoiced. The gods praised the holy one and showered flowers from above. "Blessed, blessed!" The cry rang through the sky and across Prayag. Hearing it again and again, Bharata was absorbed in the flood of devotion.