Who nobly fought and died for me.
As Daśaratha, good and great,
Was glorious in his high estate,
Honoured by all, to all endeared,
So was this royal bird revered.
Bring fuel for the funeral rite:
These hands the solemn fire shall light
And on the burning pyre shall lay
The bird who died for me to-day.
Now on the gathered wood shall lie