In plain words
Daśaratha, lamenting to Rāma: Hearing the cruel words from my cruel mouth, you did not want the vast earth; swiftly you left the victorious elephant, dark and massive, left the chariot, left the horse, and made for the forest itself, with her of fine jewels [Sītā], whose long eyes are like a spear oiled at the tip, and the young prince [Lakṣmaṇa] going behind you. How did you walk, O my Rāma? My Lord, what shall I do?