Ramayana 2.119a

When Rama saw her lying low, Prostrate by too severe a blow, Around her form his arms he wound And raised her fainting from the ground. His hand upheld her like a mare Who feels her load too sore to bear, And sinks upon the way o'ertoiled, And all her limbs with dust are soiled. He soothed her in her wild distress With loving touch and soft caress. She, meet for highest fortune, eyed The hero watching by her side, And thus, while Lakshman bent to hear, Addressed her son with many a tear! "If, Rama, thou had ne'er been born My child to make thy mother mourn, Though reft of joy, a childless queen, Such woe as this I ne'er had seen. Though to the childless wife there clings One sorrow armed with keenest stings, "No child have I: no child have I," No second misery prompts the sigh. When long I sought, alas, in vain, My husband's love and bliss to gain, In Rama all my hopes I set And dreamed I might be happy yet. I, of the consorts first and best, Must bear my rivals' taunt and jest, And brook, though better far than they, The soul distressing words they say. What woman can be doomed to pine In misery more sore than mine, Whose hopeless days must still be spent In grief that ends not and lament? They scorned me when my son was nigh; When he is banished I must die. Me, whom my husband never prized, Kaikeyi's retinue despised With boundless insolence, though she Tops not in rank nor equals me. And they who do me service yet, Nor old allegiance quite forget, Whene'er they see Kaikeyi's son, With silent lips my glances shun. How, O my darling, shall I brook Each menace of Kaikeyi's look, And listen, in my low estate, To taunts of one so passionate? For seventeen years since thou wast born I sat and watched, ah me, forlorn! Hoping some blessed day to see Deliverance from my woes by thee. Now comes this endless grief and wrong, So dire I cannot bear it long, Sinking, with age and sorrow worn, Beneath my rivals' taunts and scorn.