Verse 52

⁵²Seeing her husband given over then to great grief, and the dead boy, her son, the one line she had, the queen, a true wife, wailed in many ways and put an ache into the hearts of the people and of the court. ⁵³Wetting her two breasts, coloured with saffron paste, with tears carrying her eye-black down, her hair loose and her garlands slipping, she grieved for her son in many ways, sweet-voiced as an osprey. ⁵⁴Ordainer, you are worse than a child, working against the shape of your own making. When the elder still lives and the younger dies, that is the wrong way round; and then you are surely an enemy. ⁵⁵If there is no order here in the dying and the being born of embodied ones, let it go by their own works. Then this cord of love, which you yourself made for the increase of your own creation, you are cutting through.

⁵⁶You must not leave me, child, poor and with no one to keep me. Look at your father, burnt with grief. By you we would easily cross the dark that is not to be crossed without a child. Do not go far off with Yama, who has no pity. ⁵⁷Get up, child. These children of your own age are calling you to play with them, prince. You have slept long and hunger has come on you. Eat, drink at the breast, take away the grief of us who are yours. ⁵⁸Child of my body, all that was auspicious for me is killed: I do not see your lotus face with its innocent smile and its glad look. Or have you gone to another world with no coming back, taken by the pitiless one? I do not hear your broken words.