Doha 9

Struck by the shaft, Bāli fell on the ground smarting with pain; again he sprang up and sat, when he saw the Lord before him—dark of hue, with His matted hair coiled on His head, bloodshot eyes, an arrow in His hand and the bow still drawn. (1) Gazing on Him again and again, he fixed his heart on His feet; now that he recognized the Lord, he felt that he had realized the reward of his birth. Although his heart was full of love, the words on his lips were harsh; looking towards Śrī Rāma, he said, (2) “Even though, my lord, You descended on earth for upholding righteousness, You have killed me (hiding) as a hunter would kill a wild beast. I, Your enemy and Sugrīva, Your dear friend! For what fault did You take my life, my lord?” (3) “Listen, O wretch: a younger brother’s wife, a sister, a daughter-in-law and one’s own daughter—these four are alike. One would incur no sin by killing him who looks upon these with an evil eye. (4) “Fool, in your excessive pride you paid no heed to your wife’s warning. You knew that your brother had taken refuge under the might of my arm; and yet in your vile arrogance you sought to kill him!” (5)

“Listen, Śrī Rāma, my shrewdness cannot avail against my master. But, my lord, am I a sinner yet even though I have found shelter in You at the hour of my death?” (9)