Hinduism

Tulsidas, Ramayana, Ayodhyâ-kând, Dohâ 55

Being thus minded I do not press my suit with a show of love beyond what I really feel; agree to your mother’s request; or if you go alone, at least I pray you not to forget me.
May all the gods and the spirits of your ancestors guard you, noble boy, as closely as the eyelids guard the eyes. The term of banishment is like the water of a lake in which the fish are your friends and relations; you are all-merciful and righteous; remember then to make your plans so that you may find them all alive when you come again. Go in peace to the woods—ah! woe is me!—leaving your servants, your relatives, the whole city in bereavement; to-day the fruit of all their past good deeds has gone and awful death confronts them.” Thus with many mournful moanings she clung to his feet, accounting herself the most hapless of women. Cruel and intolerable pangs pierced her heart through and through, and the burden of her misery was past all telling. Rama raised his mother and took her to his bosom and consoled her with many soothing words.

Source The Râmâyana of Tulsi Dâs, trad. F. S. Growse, 1883, archive.org · Contents