In plain words
Daśaratha, lamenting to Rāma: Long ago, one day, you took the bow of him who wields the axe [Paraśurāma] and wholly destroyed his penance. Counting as nothing your own greatness, how hard you were won, and your mother's grief, and holding me and my word to be true, you entered the forest, O my lord! May I be granted to have you alone as my son in all seven births, O king of the long shoulders.