Ramayana 6.18

Then Rama stood by Lakshman's side, And mastered by his sorrow cried: "My brother dear, the heart's distress, As days wear on, grows less and less. But my deep-seated grief, alas, Grows fiercer as the seasons pass. Though for my queen my spirit longs, And broods indignant o'er my wrongs, Still wilder is my grief to know That her young life is passed in woe. Breathe, gentle gale, O breathe where she Lies prisoned, and then breathe on me, And, though my love I may not meet, Thy kiss shall be divinely sweet. Ah, by the giant's shape appalled, On her dear lord for help she called, Still in mine ears the sad cry rings And tears my heart with poison stings. Through the long daylight and the gloom Of night wild thoughts of her consume My spirit, and my love supplies The torturing flame which never dies. Leave me, my brother; I will sleep Couched on the bosom of the deep, For the cold wave may bring me peace And bid the fire of passion cease. One only thought my stay must be, That earth, one earth, holds her and me, To hear, to know my darling lives Some life-supporting comfort gives, As streams from distant fountains run O'er meadows parching in the sun. Ah when, my foeman at my feet, Shall I my queen, my glory, meet, The blossom of her dear face raise And on her eyes enraptured gaze, Press her soft lips to mine again, And drink a balm to banish pain! Alas, alas! where lies she now, My darling of the lovely brow? On the cold earth, no help at hand, Forlorn amid the Rakshas band, King Janak's child still calls on me, Her lord and love, to set her free. But soon in glory will she rise A crescent moon in autumn skies, And those dark rovers of the night, Like scattered clouds shall turn in flight."