The Rāmāyaṇa of Vālmīki 3.50.2

3.50.2

sā tu tārādhipamukhī rāvaṇena samīkṣya tam
gṛdhrarājaṃ vinihataṃ vilalāpa suduḥkhitā

Fair as the lord of silvery rays Whom every star in heaven obeys, The Maithil dame her plaint renewed O'er him by Rávan's might subdued: 'Dreams, omens, auguries foreshow Our coming lot of weal and woe: But thou, my Ráma, couldst not see The grievous blow which falls on thee. The birds and deer desert the brakes And show the path my captor takes, And thus e'en now this royal bird Flew to mine aid by pity stirred. Slain for my sake in death he lies, The broad-winged rover of the skies. O Ráma, haste, thine aid I crave: O Lakshman, why delay to save? Brave sons of old Ikshváku, hear And rescue in this hour of fear.' Her flowery wreath was torn and rent, Crushed was each sparkling ornament. She with weak arms and trembling knees Clung like a creeper to the trees, And like some poor deserted thing With wild shrieks made the forest ring. But swift the giant reached her side,