At all events it is but proper for a king to dwell in a forest in the evening of his life,
It is your tender age which fills my heart with agony,
How blessed is the forest and how luckless Ayodhya, That will be deserted by you
O crown of Raghu race line, if i ask you, my boy, to take me with you, your mind will fill with doubt,
May Lord bless all,
Thanks Please