हाथ मीजिबो हाथ रह्यो। लगी न संग चित्रकूटहुतें, हौं कहा जात बह्यो॥ १ ॥ पति सुरपुर, सिय-राम-लखन बन, मुनिब्रत भरत गह्यो। हौं रहि घर मसान-पावक ज्यों, मति बौड़ मृतक दह्यो॥ २ ॥ मेरोइ हिय कठोर करिबे कहँ बिधि कहुँ कुलिसम लह्यो। तुलसी बन पहुँचाइ फिरि सुत, क्यों कछु परत कह्यो?॥ ३ ॥
Only the wringing of my hands remains in my hands. I did not follow them from Citrakūṭa—what current swept me back here? (1) My husband is in heaven; Sītā, Rāma, and Lakṣmaṇa are in the forest; Bharata has taken a sage’s vow. I remain at home like a cremation fire, a foolish mind burning the dead. (2) To make my heart hard, fate found something harder even than a thunderbolt. Tulsī asks: when a son has escorted them to the forest and returned, how can anything be said to him? (3)