The war at Lanka was fierce. Rama finally stood before Ravana, who was armed with a dozen cursed maces. Rama could have shot his brahmastra immediately. Instead, he lowered his bow.
Centuries ago, Kavi had been cursed by a sage for his arrogance. “You praise kings for gold, not truth. Stand here as a mute tree until a king wins without a weapon, without anger, and without a single cry of pain.”
And that, the old storytellers whisper, is the verse that Kumara Valmiki later turned into the beloved Kannada classic you were searching for. If you'd like a summary of the actual Sri Rama Vijaya book (its structure, where to find a PDF or print copy, or key differences from Valmiki's original Ramayana), just let me know! sri rama vijaya book in kannada
Years passed. Kavi the tree saw many battles—kings returning with bloodied swords, elephants trampling the weak. He had almost given up hope.
Then came the darkest day: Sita was kidnapped. Lakshmana burned with rage. “Brother, the rakshasas must die!” But Rama sat under the banyan, closed his eyes, and said, “Anger is a second kidnapper. It steals our dharma before the enemy steals anything else.” The war at Lanka was fierce
The war was over. No unnecessary death. No curse on Ravana’s soul.
Ravana roared and attacked. Rama raised his bow—not in anger, but in mercy. He shot a single arrow. It did not scream through the air. It hummed like a forgotten hymn. It struck Ravana’s heart, and the demon fell, his face peaceful. Instead, he lowered his bow
It sounds like you're looking for the classic Kannada work Sri Rama Vijaya (ಶ್ರೀ ರಾಮ ವಿಜಯ) by the poet (also known as Kummara Valmiki). That book is a celebrated retelling of the Ramayana in the Shatpadi (six-line verse) meter.
“Return Sita,” Rama said. “Not because I can kill you—but because holding her against her will has already killed the good within you.”
Ravana laughed. But a single tear fell from his lowest head. For a moment, he hesitated. In that hesitation, Rama saw not a demon, but a fallen scholar who once knew the Vedas.
That night, back in Chitrakuta, the banyan tree shuddered. Its roots pulled free from the earth. Its bark peeled away to reveal the trembling hands of the poet Kavi.