His face, which resembled the autumn moon, was matchless in beauty. Lovely were his cheeks and chin, and his neck resembled the conch-shell in its spiral shape. His ruddy lips, teeth and nose were charming, his smile more radiant than the moonbeam.

His eyes possessed the exquisite beauty of newly-opened lotuses and his fascinating glance captivated the soul. His curved eyebrows stole the beauty of Love’s bow and a sect-mark glistened on his forehead.

Fish-shaped earrings hung from his ear-lobes and a crown adorned his head. His crisp, curly locks looked like a swarm of bees. His breast was marked by a curl of hair, Shrivasta, and adorned with a charming wreath of woodland flowers, a garland of gems and jewelled ornaments.

His strong and well-built neck resembled that of a lion and the lovely sacred thread was suspended from it. Beautiful, too, were the bracelets on his arms, long comely arms like the trunk of an elephant. A quiver was tied to his waist and his hands bore a bow and arrows.

His yellow garments were more lustrous than the lightning and his belly had three fair folds, while his navel was so captivating that it seemed to have robbed Yamuna’s eddies of their beauty.

His lotus feet, which attract the minds of sages like so many bees, were beyond description. On his left there shone his Primal Energy. Sita, who is ever devoted to him, and who is a storehouse of beauty and mother of the world.

She from a part of whom are born countless Lakshmis, Umas and Brahmanis, all mines of virtues; she by the mere play of whose eyebrows the world is brought into existence stood on Rama’s left, Sita herself.