Jai Sri Ram,
I sing the glories of Sri Rama according to my own lights,
My intellect, which wallows in the world, is a poor match for the exploiters of the Lord of Ragus,
Tell me, of what account is cotton in the face of strong wind before which even mountains like Meru are blown away,
Realizing the infinite glory of Sri Rama, my mind feels very different in proceedings with this story,
May Lord Bless all,
Thanks, please