Valmiki Ramayana 2.82.7

2.82.7

gītavāditranirghoṣair varābharaṇaniḥsvanaiḥ
mṛdaṅgavaraśabdaiś ca satataṃ pratibodhitaḥ

When Bharat with each friend and peer
Had heard that tale so full and clear,
They went together to the tree
The bed which Ráma pressed to see.
Then Bharat to his mothers said:
'Behold the high-souled hero's bed:
These tumbled heaps of grass betray
Where he that night with Sitá lay:
Unmeet, the heir of fortune high
Thus on the cold bare earth should lie,
The monarch's son, in counsel sage,
Of old imperial lineage.
That lion-lord whose noble bed
With finest skins of deer was spread,--
How can he now endure to press
The bare earth, cold and comfortless!
This sudden fall from bliss to grief
Appears untrue, beyond belief:
My senses are distraught: I seem
To view the fancies of a dream.
There is no deity so great,
No power in heaven can master Fate,
If Ráma, Das'aratha's heir,
Lay on the ground and slumbered there;
And lovely Sitá, she who springs
From fair Videha's ancient kings,