Then Ráma, pierced by anger’s sting, Laid a keen arrow on his string, And by the faithful Lakshmaṇ’s side Roamed through the forest far and wide. Jaṭáyus there with blood-drops dyed, Lying upon the ground he spied, Huge as a mountain’s shattered crest, Mid all the birds of air the best. In wrath the mighty bird he eyed, And thus the chief to Lakshmaṇ cried:

In plain words: Angry, Rama readies an arrow and searches the forest with Lakshmana. They find Jatayu, the great vulture, lying bloody on the ground, as huge as a broken mountain peak. Rama looks at him in rage.