At Ravana’s false ego to poke,

Sita with most interesting joke.

That place of Janasthana turned,

Through husband name Hatasthana earned.

Land formerly of the living,

Then deadly force to Rakshasas giving.

Against Rama a fatal blunder,

His fiery arrows Lanka torn asunder.

Fight against night-rangers to take,

Then easy work of them to make.

From His golden arrows released,

Turned to Hatasthana, land of deceased.

Though of their own glories to sing,

Rama defeat to them to bring.

Worship Him always my brother,

A Lord He’ll be like no other.

Of Queen Kausalya the son,

And Raghu’s clan shining sun.

To Lakshmana and Bharata brother elder,

And Shatrughna too the supreme shelter.

The forest ascetics always defending,

Many arrows for them sending.

In so many roles but to tire never,

Remaining my Lord forever and ever.

In proper tone these words please take,

Just an honest confession to make.

That to me Rama the worshipable one,

Another lord comparable is none.

From Hanuman’s authority alone,

By me this truth is known.

Sita and Lakshmana rounding it out,

That blemishes He forever without.

To Bhagavan is the same,

Is king of Rama the name.

Fame, beauty, wealth and strength,

Wisdom and dispassion beyond length.

Identical to Vishnu, Krishna, and Narasimha too,

Carrying bow and arrow in lotus hands two.

Despite what anyone else to say,

Prefer on His side to stay.

The most magnanimous of all,

The Supreme Shri Rama to call.

For defense of devotees to stand,

Armed with bow and arrow in hand.

Beautiful smile on His face keeping,

Boundless mercy on worshipers heaping.

Who on Janasthana’s field to shine,

That protector most beloved of mine.

To mountain king’s daughter all glory,

Who from Shankara heard Rama’s story.

Honor also to their beloved son,

From whom obstacles quickly run.

Without guru where this wretch to be?

Only repeated misery to see.

And to Hanuman who knowing the best,

In service to Rama surpassing the rest.