All 50 Uses of

scarcity

in

The Ramayana

His arms embraced in loving hold, Like a dear wife, a vase of gold Whose silver lining held a draught Of nectar as in heaven is quaffed: A vase so vast, so bright to view, They scarce could count the vision true.†
Book 1

(166) Pure, with glad cheer and joyful breast, Of those mysterious arms possessed, Ráma, now passing on his way, Thus to the saint began to say: "Lord of these mighty weapons, I Can scarce be harmed by Gods on high; Now, best of saints, I long to gain The powers that can these arms restrain."†
Book 1

Vasish? ha's children heard, and guessed His evil purpose scarce expressed, And cried, while rage their bosoms burned, "Be to a vile Cha?†
Book 1

Then when his swelling heart had shrunk, And his proud strength in torpor sunk, Scarce his voice ventured, low and weak, To Ráma lotus-eyed, to speak: "When long ago I gave away The whole broad land to Kasyap's sway He charged me never to remain Within the limits of his reign.†
Book 1

Feeble and worn I scarce can bear The ruler's toil, the judge's care, With royal dignity, a weight That tries the young and temperate.†
Book 2 *

Hast thou not sense thy state to know, Engulfed in seas of whelming woe; Sick as I am with grief and pain My lips can scarce a laugh restrain To see thee hail with ill-timed joy A peril mighty to destroy.†
Book 2

Thy longer life I scarce can bear, Thou ruin of my home and race, Who wouldst my heart and heartstrings tear, Keen as a razor, false and base.†
Book 2

In heaven itself I scarce could bear, When asking of my Ráma there, To hear the Gods his griefs declare, And O, that death would take me hence Before I wrong his innocence!†
Book 2

And, Ráma, as I ween that thou Wilt scarce endure to linger now, So surely it were wise and good This hour to journey to the wood.†
Book 2

Then Ráma, smitten with the pain His heaving heart could scarce restrain, Groaned like an elephant and strode With Lakshma? to the queen's abode.†
Book 2

Alarmed and sad, with bloodless cheek, She turned to him and scarce could speak: "Nay, Sire, but Bharat shall not gain An empty realm where none remain.†
Book 2

Scarce could the monarch's angry speech The ears of the fair lady reach, When thus, with double wrath inflamed, Kaikeyí to the king exclaimed: "Sagar, from whom thy line is traced, Drove forth his eldest son disgraced, Called Asamanj, whose fate we know: Thus should thy son to exile go."†
Book 2

Scarce had the sire, with each dear queen, Heard Ráma's pleading voice, and seen His darling in his hermit dress Ere failed his senses for distress.†
Book 2

With choking sobs and voice half spent The king renewed his sad lament: With broken utterance faint and low Scarce could he speak these words of woe: "My steps to Ráma's mother guide, And place me by Kausalyá's side: There, only there my heart may know Some little respite from my woe."†
Book 2

No hand with joy its earnings told, None cared to win a wealth of gold, And scarce the youthful mother smiled To see her first, her new-born child.†
Book 2

This first sad night of grief, I ween, Will do to death each sorrowing queen: Scarce is Kausalyá left alive; My mother, too, can scarce survive.†
Book 2

This first sad night of grief, I ween, Will do to death each sorrowing queen: Scarce is Kausalyá left alive; My mother, too, can scarce survive.†
Book 2

Still on the brothers forced their way Where sweet birds sang on every spray, Though scarce the eye a path could find Mid flowering trees where creepers twined.†
Book 2

Sumantra, at the king's behest, Striving with sobs he scarce repressed, His trembling voice at last controlled, And thus his further tidings told: "Their locks in votive coils they wound, Their coats of bark upon them bound, To Gangá's farther shore they went, Thence to Prayág their steps were bent.†
Book 2

Retracing slow my homeward course, Scarce could I move each stubborn horse: Shedding hot tears of grief he stood When Ráma turned him to the wood.†
Book 2

Their bright wings heavy from the shower, The birds, new-bathed, had scarce the power To reach the branches of the trees Whose high tops swayed beneath the breeze.†
Book 2

Helpless I stood, faint, sorely grieved: The hermit's son my thought perceived; As one o'ercome by direst pain He scarce had strength to speak again.†
Book 2

With sobbing voice and bosom wrung I scarce could move my faltering tongue, And with my spirit filled with dread I looked upon the sage, and said, While mind, and sense, and nerve I strung To fortify my trembling tongue, And let the aged hermit know His son's sad fate, my fear and woe: "High-minded Saint, not I thy child, A warrior, Dasaratha styled.†
Book 2

Scarce shall I find my friends who dwell Here in Ayodhyá safe and well: For surely not without a cause This crushing dread my soul o'erawes."†
Book 2

His lamentation scarce was o'er, When Saint Vasish? ha, skilled in lore Of royal duty, dear to fame, To join the great assembly came.†
Book 2

Scarce with thy wife and Lakshma? thou Hadst journeyed forth to keep the vow, When mourning for his son, forspent, To heavenly rest the monarch went.†
Book 2

To live in woods a devotee Can scarce with royal tasks agree, Nor can the hermit's matted hair Suit fitly with a ruler's care.†
Book 2

If one is fed, his strength renewed Whene'er his brother takes his food, Then offerings to the parted pay: Scarce will they serve him on his way.†
Book 2

í, dear spouse of him Whom Ráhu hates,(396) grows faint and dim, When, as she shines on high alone The demon's shade is o'er her thrown: As burnt by summer's heat a rill Scarce trickling from her parent hill, With dying fish in pools half dried, And fainting birds upon her side: As sacrificial flames arise When holy oil their food supplies, But when no more the fire is fed Sink lustreless and cold and dead: Like some brave host that filled the plain, With harness rent and captains…†
Book 2

s less, Was filled with pride and happiness, For honours high had Sítá gained, Which mortal dames have scarce obtained.†
Book 2

He pierced the mighty forest where Roamed many a deer and pard and bear: Its ruined pools he scarce could see.†
Book 3

Himálaya's hill, ordained of old The treasure-house of frost and cold, Scarce conscious of the feebler glow, Is truly now the Lord of Snow.†
Book 3

See where the rice plants scarce uphold Their full ears tinged with paly gold, Bending their ripe heads slowly down Fair as the date tree's flowery crown.†
Book 3

A hero strong in valorous deed Is Ráma, Dasaratha's seed: And scarce of weaker might than he His brother chief who mangled me."†
Book 3

When Ráma saw those signs of woe Fraught with destruction to the foe, With bold impatience scarce repressed His brother chief he thus addressed: "These fearful signs, my brother bold, Which threaten all our foes, behold: All laden, as they strike the view, With ruin to the fiendish crew.†
Book 3

But waxing wroth, with force unspent, He strained his bow to utmost bent, And forth his arrows keen and true In hundreds, yea in thousands flew,— Shafts none could ward, and none endure: Death's fatal noose was scarce so sure.†
Book 3

Fiends wounded, falling, fallen, slain, All in a moment, spread the plain, And thousands scarce alive were left Mangled, and gashed, and torn, and cleft.†
Book 3

Then, scarce by Indra's self surpassed, He pierced the giant with the last.†
Book 3

The monarch heard the saint's request And thus the glorious sage addressed: "My boy as yet in arms untrained The age of twelve has scarce attained.†
Book 3

Scarce from the ground one foot he sprang, Then stricken fell with deadly pang.†
Book 3

Scarce can my heart retain its throne, Scarce can my life be called mine own, As all my powers and senses fail At that long, loud and bitter wail.†
Book 3

Scarce can my heart retain its throne, Scarce can my life be called mine own, As all my powers and senses fail At that long, loud and bitter wail.†
Book 3

The angry Lakshma? scarce could brook Her bitter words, her furious look.†
Book 3

But when the rites were scarce begun, To consecrate Ikshváku's son, The queen Kaikeyí, honoured dame, Sought of her lord an ancient claim.†
Book 3

Then to the lady, with the lore Of eloquence, he spoke once more: "Thou scarce," he cried, "hast heard aright The glories of my power and might.†
Book 3

As long she wept in grief and dread, Scarce conscious of the words she said, The wicked giant onward fled And bore her through the air.†
Book 3

Faint is his voice, and near to die, He scarce can lift his trembling eye.†
Book 3

The chiefs that awful wood surveyed Where deer and wild birds filled each glade, Where scarce a step the foot could take For tangled shrub and tree and brake.†
Book 3

Scarce might the sun and moon on high, Scarce Sakra, with my beauty vie.†
Book 3

Scarce might the sun and moon on high, Scarce Sakra, with my beauty vie.†
Book 3

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Definition:

(scarcity)
shortage (having an amount that is less than desired)

scarcity in The Ramayana

scarcity

in

The Ramayana