I must give you a little background information so when the time comes to tell you about my leap to Lanka you will have a better understanding. I am the son of Vayu, (Vayuputra) and this poem should explain what you must know. It was written by Vesuvio and translated by my dear friend David. Let's begin:

Long ago before you but not I,

Lived winged behemoths that roamed the sky.

These stone behemoths had ancient names:

Himalaya, St. Helen... not one the same.

They soared with grace and joy, delight;

They traveled the earth without a care in sight.

But the people's fear and panic grew tall.

They asked: "what will happen if they should fall?"

This matter was brought to Indra and Devas—

Their only solution was that our wings must leave us.

Devas held tight as Indra clipped away

The last of our freedom... cemented like clay.

But one mountain they could not catch and hold still;

It was Mainaka favored by Vayu's will.

No harm would come to Vayu's dear friend.

The Wind God blew Mainaka from north to south and end to end.

Vayu soon realized that a compromise must be met,

So he asked Mainaka to sink into the murky depths.

It is here that the last winged behemoth does remain,

Only to rise should Vayu call his name...