Valmiki Ramayana 2.93.18

2.93.18

sālatālāśvakarṇānāṃ parṇair bahubhir āvṛtām
viśālāṃ mṛdubhis tīrṇāṃ kuśair vedim ivādhvare

As thus he sadly mourned and sighed,
The son of Dasaratha spied
A bower of leafy branches made,
Sacred and lovely in the shade,
Of fair proportions large and tall,
Well roofed with boughs of palm, and Sál,
Arranged in order due o'erhead
Like grass upor an altar spread.
Two glorious bows were gleaming there,
Like Indra's in the rainy air,
Terror of foemen. backed with gold,
Meet for the mightiest hand to hold:
And quivered arrows cast a blaze
Bright gleaming like the Day-God's rays:
Thus serpents with their eyes aglow
Adorn their capital below.
Great swords adorned the cottage, laid
Each in a case of gold brocade;
There hung the trusty shields, whereon.
With purest gold the bosses shone.
The brace to bind the bowman's arm,
The glove to shield his hand from harm,
A lustre to the cottage lent
From many a golden ornament:
Safe was the cot from fear of men
As from wild beasts the lion's den.
The fire upon the altar burned,
That to the north and east was turned.
Bharat his eager glances bent
And gazed within the cot intent;
In deerskin dress, with matted hair,
Rama his chief was sitting there:
With liou-shl ulders broad and strong,
With lotus eyes, arms thick and long.
The righteous sovereign, who should be
Lord paramount from sea to sea,
High-minded, born to lofty fate,
Like Brahma's self supremely great;
With Lakshman by his side, and her,
Fair Sita, for his minister.
And Bharat gazing, overcome
By sorrow for a while was dumb,
Then, yielding to his woe, he ran
To Kama and with sobs began:
'He who a royal seat should fill
With subjects round to do his will,
My elder brother,--see him here,
With silvan creatures waiting near.
The high-souled hero, wont to wear
The costliest robes exceeding fair,
Now banished, in a deerskin dress,
Here keeps the path of righteousness.
How brooks the son of Eaghu now
The matted locks which load his brow,
Around whose princely head were twined
Sweet blossoms of the rarest kind?
The prince whose merits grew, acquired
By rites performed as he desired,
Would now a store of merit gain
Bought by his body's toil and pain.
Those limbs to which pure sandal lent
The freshness of its fragrant scent,
Exposed to sun. and dust, and rain,
Are now defiled with many a stain.
And I the wretched cause why this
Falls on the prince whose right is bliss!
Ah me, that ever I was born
To be the people's hate and scorn!'
Thus Bharat cried: of anguish sprung,
Great drops upon his forehead hung.
He fell o'erpowered-his grief was such-
Ere he is brother's feet could touch.
As on the glorious prince he gazed
In vain his broken voice he raised:
'Dear lord'--through tears and sobbing came,
The only words his lips could frame.
And brave Satrughna wept aloud,
As low at Ráma's feet he bowed.
Then Ráma, while his tears ran fast,
His arms around his brothers cast.
Guha, Sumantra came to meet
The princes in their wild retreat.
Vrihaspati and Sukra bright
Their greeting thus rejoice to pay
To the dear Lord who brings the night,
And the great God who rules the day.
Then wept the dwellers of the shade,
Whose eyes the princes, meet to ride
On mighty elephants, surveyed;
And cast all thought of joy aside.