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But of the host of giants one, Akampan, from the field had run And sped to Lanka to relate In Ravan's ear the demons' fate: "King, many a giant from the shade Of Janasthan in death is laid: Khara the chief is slain, and I Could scarcely from the battle fly."
Fierce anger, as the monarch heard, Inflamed his look, his bosom stirred, And while with scorching glance he eyed The messenger, he thus replied: "What fool has dared, already dead, Strike Janasthan, the general dread? Who is the wretch shall vainly try In earth, heaven, hell, from me to fly? Vaisravan, Indra, Vishnu, He Who rules the dead, must reverence me; For not the mightiest lord of these Can brave my will and live at ease. Fate finds in me a mightier fate To burn the fires that devastate. With unresisted influence I Can force e'en Death himself to die, With all-surpassing might restrain The fury of the hurricane, And burn in my tremendous ire The glory of the sun and fire."