Valmiki Ramayana 4.20.3

4.20.3

vānarendraṃ mahendrābhaṃ śokasaṃtaptamānasā
tārā tarum ivonmūlaṃ paryadevayad āturā

Again she bent her to the ground,
Her arms about her husband wound.
Sobbed on his breast, and sick and faint
With anguish poured her wild complaint:
Brave in the charge of battle, boast
And glory of the Vánar host,
Why on the cold earth wilt thou lie
And give no answer when I cry!
Up, warrior, from thy lowly bed!
A meeter couch for thee is spread.
It ill beseems a glorious king
On the bare ground his limbs to fling.
Ah, surely must thy love be strong
For her whom thou hast governed long,
If thou, my hero, canst recline
On her cold breast forsaking mine.
Or, famed for justice through the laud.
Thou on the road to heaven hast planned
Some city fairer far than this
To be thy new metropolis.
Are all our plasures ended now.
With those delicious hours which thou
And I, dear lord, together spent
In woods that breathed the honey's scent?
Whelmed in my sorrow's boundless sea,
There is no joy, no hope, for me,
When my beloved lord, who led
The Vánars to the fight, is dead,
My widowed heart is stern and cold.
Or, at the sight mine eyes behold,
O'ermastered would it end this ache
And in a thousand fragments break.
Ah noble Vánar, doomed to pay
The penalty of all today--
Sugriva from his home expelled.
And Rumá from his arms withheld.
Our Vánar race and thee to save.
Wise counsel for thy weal I gave;
But thou, by wildest folly stirred,
Wouldst give no credence to my word.
And now wilt woo the nymphs above.
And shake their souls with pangs of love.
Ah, never could it be that thou
Beneath Sugriva's power shouldst bow,
Thy conqueror is none but Fate
Whose mandates all who breathe await.
And does no thrill of anguish run
Through the stern breast of Raghu's son,
Whose base hand dealt a coward's blow,
And smote thee fighting with thy foe!
Reft of my lord my days, alas!