Valmiki Ramayana 2.60.12

2.60.12

tailadroṇyām athāmātyāḥ saṃveśya jagatīpatim
rājñaḥ sarvāṇy athādiṣṭāś cakruḥ karmāṇy anantaram

Clasping her husband's lifeless clay
A while the weeping votaress lay,
Till chamberlains removed her thence
O'ercome by sorrow's violence.
Then in a cask of oil they laid
Him who in life the world had swayed,
And finished, as the lords desired,
All rites for parted souls required.
The lords, all-wise, refused to burn
The monarch ere his son's return;
So for a while the corpse they set
Embalmed in oil, and waited yet.
The women heard: no doubt remained,
And wildly for the king they plained.
With gushing tears that drowned each eye
Wildly they waved their arms on high,
And each her mangling nails impressed
Deep in her head and knee and breast:
'Of Ráma reft,--who ever spake
The sweetest words the heart to take,
Who firmly to the truth would cling,--
Why dost thou leave us, mighty King?
How can the consorts thou hast left
Widowed, of Raghu's son bereft,
Live with our foe Kaikeyí near,
The wicked queen we hate and fear?
She threw away the king, her spite
Drove Ráma forth and Lakshman's might,
And gentle Sítá: how will she
Spare any, whosoe'er it be?'