Strewn on the ground, the way I go,
Bright as the lustrous path that lies
Athwart the region of the skies.[786]
The Maithil lady will I find,—
Thus speaks mine own prophetic mind,—
And cast in hideous ruin down
The shattered walls of Lanká's town.”
Still on the chief in rapt surprise
The Vánar legions bent their eyes,
And thus again sage Jámbaván