“आजु अनरसे हैं भोरके, पय पियत न नीके। रहत न बैठे, ठाढ़े, पालने झुलावत हू, रोवत राम मेरो— सो सोच सबहीके॥ १ ॥ देव, पितर, ग्रह पूजिये, तुला तौलिये घीके। तदपि कबहुँ कबहुँक सखी ऐसेहि अरत जब परत दृष्टि दुष्ट तीके॥ २ ॥ बेगि बोलि कुलगुर, छुऔ माथे हाथ अमीके। सुनत आइ ऋषि कुस हरे नरसिंह मंत्र पढ़े, जो सुमिरत भय भीके॥ ३ ॥ जासु नाम सरबस सदासिव-पारबतीके। ताहि झरावति कौसिला, यह रीति प्रीतिकी हिय हुलसति तुलसीके॥ ४ ॥
“Since morning today he has been listless and will not drink milk properly. He will not stay seated, standing, or even rocking in the cradle; my Rāma keeps crying— and everyone is worried. (1) We worship gods, ancestors, and planets and weigh out his weight in clarified butter. Even so, friend, sometimes a child frets exactly like this when the sharp eye of an evil woman falls upon him. (2) Quickly summon the family guru; let his nectar-filled hand touch the child's brow.” Hearing this, the sage comes, sweeps him with sacred grass, and recites the Narasiṃha mantra— a mantra whose remembrance makes fear itself afraid. (3) He whose name is everything to Sadāśiva and Pārvatī— Kausalyā has that very one exorcised. Seeing this custom of love, Tulsī's heart exults. (4)