Is not the wondrous chariot mine,
Named Pushpak, wrought by hands divine.
The prize which Rávaṇ seized of old
Victorious o'er the God of Gold?
This chariot, kept with utmost care,
Will waft thee through the fields of air,
And thou shalt light unwearied down
In fair Ayodhyá's royal town.
But yet if aught that I have done
Has pleased thee well, O Raghu's son;