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ire
in
The Ramayana
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u's power and might, And lovely as the Lord of Night;(22) Patient as Earth, but, roused to ire, Fierce as the world-destroying fire; In bounty like the Lord of Gold,(23) And Justice self in human mould.†
Book 1

ire = anger
To meet her husband Sítá came; But Ráma, stung with ire and shame, With bitter words his wife addressed Before the crowd that round her pressed.†
Book 1
But Sítá, touched with noble ire, Gave her fair body to the fire.†
Book 1
How Hanumán was seized; their ire When Lanká blazed with hostile fire.†
Book 1
Once favoured by the Eternal Sire He plagues the worlds in ceaseless ire, For peerless power and might renowned, By giant bands encompassed round.†
Book 1 *
Bent double by the Wind-God's ire They sought the palace of their sire, There fell upon the ground with sighs, While tears and shame were in their eyes.†
Book 1
They dug, in ire that naught could stay, Through sixty thousand leagues their way, Cleaving the earth with matchless strength Till hell itself they reached at length.†
Book 1
The monarch in excessive ire, His eyes with fury darting fire, Rained every missile on the foe Till all the Pahlavas were low.†
Book 1
So with ascetic might, in ire, He smote the children and the sire.†
Book 1
The haughty challenge, undeterred The son of Dasaratha heard, And cried, while reverence for his sire Checked the full torrent of his ire: "Before this day have I been told The deed that stained thy hands of old.†
Book 1
She spoke these words of cruel ire; Then stripping off her gay attire, The cold bare floor she pressed.†
Book 2
At length, when slowly strength returned, He answered as his eyeballs burned With the wild fury of his ire Consuming her, as 'twere, with fire: "Fell traitress, thou whose thoughts design The utter ruin of my line, What wrong have I or Ráma done?†
Book 2
My Ráma's words are ever kind, He knows not how to speak in ire: Then how canst thou presume to find A fault in him whom all admire?†
Book 2
Shall then the virtuous disobey Hosts of an aged king and sire, Though feverous joy that father sway, Or senseless love or causeless ire?†
Book 2
Again thy mother, flushed with ire, To Kekaya spake, thy royal sire: "Tell me the cause; then live or die: I will not brook thy laugh, not I." Thus by his darling wife addressed, The king whose might all earth confessed, To that kind saint his story told Who gave the wondrous gift of old.†
Book 2
All words of wrath he turned aside, And ne'er, when cursed, in ire replied.†
Book 2
As one whose hand has touched the fire, Or slain a Bráhman in his ire, He felt his heart with sorrow torn Still thinking of his son forlorn.†
Book 2
with his soul on fire, Spake breathing fast these words of ire: "Say, for what sin, for what offence Was royal Ráma banished thence?†
Book 2
Haste to my father, and relate While time allows, my sudden fate, Lest he consume thee as the fire Burns up the forest, in his ire.†
Book 2
What banished son would check his ire, Nor speak reproaches of his sire?†
Book 2
Deep in her heart Kaikeyí felt The stabs his keen reproaches dealt, And of Satrughna's ire afraid, To Bharat flew and cried for aid.†
Book 2
And she, the wicked dame through whom My brothers' lives are wrapped in gloom, And mourning for his offspring dear, The king has sought his heavenly sphere,— Proud, foolish-hearted, swift to ire, Self-fancied darling of my sire, Kaikeyí, most ambitious queen, Unlovely with her lovely mien, My mother she, whose impious will Is ever bent on deeds of ill, In whom the root and spring I see Of all this woe which crushes me.†
Book 2
his answer thus returned, As furious rage within him burned, Exciting him like kindled fire To scorch the army in his ire: "'Tis Bharat: he has made the throne By consecrating rites his own: To gain the whole dominion thus He comes in arms to slaughter us.†
Book 2
Of these fair-waisted nymphs the great Lord Kasyap sought and wedded eight, Aditi, Diti, Kálaká, Támrá, Danú, and Analá, And Krodhavasá swift to ire, And Manu(443) glorious as her sire.†
Book 3
The Bráhman-slayers raised on high Their mighty spears and made reply: They spoke with eyes aglow with ire, While Ráma's burnt with vengeful tire, And answered thus, in fury wild, That peerless chief whose tones were mild: "Nay thou hast angered, overbold, Khara our lord, the mighty-souled, And for thy sin, in battle strife Shalt yield to us thy forfeit life.†
Book 3
First moved to ire by taunts and stings, Now soothed by gentle flatterings, To Dúsha?†
Book 3
Lord of the arm no toil might tire, He stood majestic in his ire, Matchless in form as Rudra(465) when His wrath is fierce on Gods or men.†
Book 3
Terrific as the ruinous fire That ends the worlds, he glowed in ire, And his tremendous form dismayed The Gods who roam the forest shade.†
Book 3
Then blazed his ire: he longed to smite To earth the rovers of the night.†
Book 3
Then pierced in shoulder, breast, and side, Till every limb with blood was dyed, The chieftain in majestic ire Shone glorious as the smokeless fire.†
Book 3
He spoke, and loosing from his hold His mighty mace ringed round with gold, Like some red bolt alive with fire Hurled it at Ráma, mad with ire.†
Book 3
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.†
Book 3
Though lulled in sleep his senses lie He watches with a ruler's eye, Untouched by favour, ire, and hate, And him the people celebrate.†
Book 3
guard thee from the fire Of vengeful Ráma's kindled ire,— Each spark a shaft with deadly aim, While bow and falchion feed the flame.†
Book 3
Deaf to her prayer, no step he stirred Obedient to his mother's word, Then Janak's child, with ire inflamed, In words of bitter scorn exclaimed exclaimed "Sumitrá's son, a friend in show, Thou art in truth thy brother's foe, Who canst at such any hour deny Thy succour and neglect his cry.†
Book 3
As thus she spake in envious ire, The aged king, my husband's sire, Besought with fitting words; but she Was cold and deaf to every plea.†
Book 3
once, my brother, wrought To ire, encountered me and fought, But yielding to superior might Fled from his home in sore affright.†
Book 3
As thus he spake in burning ire His glowing eyes were red with fire.†
Book 3
Then on the car he turned his ire,— The will-moved car that shone like fire, And broke the glorious chariot, broke The golden steps and pole and yoke.†
Book 3
Thus Ráma spake as though his ire Would scorch them with his glance of fire; Then searching farther on the ground The footprint of a fiend he found, And small light traces here and there, Where Sítá in her great despair, Shrieking for Ráma's help, had fled Before the giant's mighty tread.†
Book 3
s hand received his bow, Strained the great string, and laid thereon A deadly dart that flashed and shone, And spake these words as fierce in ire As He who ends the worlds with fire: "As age and time and death and fate All life with checkless power await, So Lakshma?†
Book 3
To that pure saint who never broke One law of duty Ráma spoke: "I trust no cares invade thy peace, While holy works and zeal increase; That thou content with scanty food All touch of ire hast long subdued; That all thy vows are well maintained While peace of mind is surely gained, That reverence of the saints who taught Thy faithful heart due fruit has brought."†
Book 3
Then, trained in all the arts that guide The speaker, Hanumán replied: "Yea, lords like you of wisest thought, Whom happy fate has hither brought, Who vanquish ire and rule each sense, Must of our lord have audience.†
Book 4
Sugríva spoke inflamed with ire, Scanned Ráma with a glance of fire, Pondered a while in silent mood.†
Book 4
But thou art weak and swift to ire, Unstable, slave of each desire.†
Book 4
There Báli lay, a dim dark sun, His course of light and glory run: Or like the bed of Ocean dried Of his broad floods from side to side, Or helpless, as the dying fire, Hushed his last words of righteous ire.†
Book 4
He saw, and fiercer waxed his ire, As oil lends fury to the fire.†
Book 4
s self: impelled by ire He seeks the city of my sire.†
Book 4
Now, O my lords—for you are wise— Speak truly what your hearts advise, And, pondering each event, inquire The reason of the prince's ire.†
Book 4
s gentle breast on fire, And brings him in unwonted ire?†
Book 4

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(1) (ire)
anger
(2) (meaning too rare to warrant focus)

ire in The Ramayana (Auto-generated)

ire
in
The Ramayana
(Auto-generated)