The Rāmāyaṇa of Vālmīki 2.65.24

2.65.24

śrutā no yādṛśāḥ pūrvaṃ nṛpatīnāṃ vināśane
ākārās tān ahaṃ sarvān iha paśyāmi sārathe

Yet fear of ill my heart appals,
And all my wonted courage falls.
For I have heard in days gone by
The changes seen when monarchs die;
And all those signs. O charioteer,
I see today surround me here:
Each kinsman's house looks dark and grim,
No hand delights to keep it trim:
The beauty vanished. and the pride,
The doors, unkept, stand open wide.
No morning rites are offered there,
No grateful incense loads the air,
And all therein, with brows o'ercast,
Sit joyless on the ground and fast.
Their lovely chaplets dry and dead,
Their courts unswept, with dust o'erspread,
The temples of the Gods to-day
No more look beautiful and gay.
Neglected stands each holy shrine,
Each image of a Lord divine.
No shop where flowery wreaths are sold
Is bright and busy as of old.
The women and the men I mark
Absorbed in fancies dull and dark,
Their gloomy eyes with tears bedewed,
A poor afflicted multitude.'