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(xii)
thoughts (347), which have, indeed, a Shakespearean touch about them, as also a touch of Omar Khayyam. This is what he says:
"Alas! the head, that formerly was caressed when lying on his beloved's arm, comely like a bamboo shoot, rolls now on the slope of an ant-hill that serves as his pillow" (342). "How strange is this glossy transformation of a lovely braid of hair into a hollow skull, matted with dry grass sprouting from its interior filled with mud! (343). Alas! Alas! This row of teeth, overspread' with greenish dirt, appears as if it is emitting even now the juice of many a betel chewed before" (344). "By the presence of the feathers of bees here, it looks as if the Cupid's blossom-darts ( mañjarī—bāņa ) were discharged by him (even on this dead body)!" (345). For him, dead as he is, the whole world becomes at once enveloped in impenetrable darkness, although we (on the earth) still have the sun rising, the friendly moon shining, the fire burning and the jewels shedding their lustre' (346).
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From the temple, the King advanced over the slopes of the Vindhya mountain, regaled by the notes of peacocks and glanced at from a distance by the frightened Sabara women holding peacock feathers over their eyes and dropping clusters of Gunja fruit on the way (352-353).
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Hearing of the King's approach, the Lord of Magadha fled away in fear (354).
The Summer:
Now comes Summer with its scorching heat and the Poet treats us to some very fine, unconventional ideas with reference to this season.
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