O chief of the gods, O lord of the celestials, see the (your) cruel husband-man belabouring my weak son with the wooden stick and oppressing him with the stick, for which my son is afflicted with agony and he is falling on the ground and is at the point of death. I am filled with compassion and my mind is agitated. One of those (in the plough) is the stronger (of the pair) and bears his burden of greater weight (with ease), but the other (my son) is lean and weak and but a mass of veins and arteries. O Vasava, he bears his burden with difficulty. Therefore, I am weeping. Being whipped again and again harassed exceedingly.