In plain words
So the depth in the Rāmāyaṇa of Tulasīdās is filled with supreme Bhakti and surrender.
"Rāmacandra! No one can describe Your greatness." he said. "Whoever describes it is one who does not know Your greatness," he said. A man can speak even when he is in the water. Just as one who has gone fully under cannot speak, so no one who has tasted Your nectar can say it is like this or like that. If anyone can say it, it means he has not gone under this water. So from that day he kept to one word. The word itself is man's life. This very word takes one to the heights. It drags one down into ruin. Through the word itself friendship comes to a man. But it brings hatred too. But this word also rests on the saṃskāras in the mind. It was through the command of my wife, she who belonged to this body, that I was able to reach the presence of Rāma's feet. So one evil also brings about another good. Good too lies within two evils. That is why they said, "Pleasure is an interval between two pains." Had I kept the pride and attachment that say, "My wife has really reviled me," this sacred presence would not have come to me. This sense of 'mine' and this Ahaṅkāra are what drown man. So this sense of 'mine' rests on you. Truly, the sense of 'I' rests on my Ātma. It is because you grow your sense of 'mine' and 'I' not on what it should rest on but on what it should not that you are bound. So, "Carry me across these bonds of saṃsāra": calling Him Śrī Rāmacandra kṛpāḷo, likening Rāmacandra to the compassionate one, he asked Him to carry him across this fearful bondage of saṃsāra.