Prakrit Verses in Sanskrit Works on Poetics Part 02

SR No.: 006960
Original Sutra Author: N/A
Author: V M Kulkarni
Publisher: B L Institute of Indology
Publication Year: 1990
Total Pages: 768
Language: English
Classification: Book_English
File Size: 12 MB

Page 94

Prakrit Verses in Sanskrit Works on Poetics
determination.
185. (Citraratha interrupts Rāvana who was boasting of his prowess :) "There is
no point in boasting, Rāvana, when you can't keep your own resolves. Remember the sum and substance of it all is that no warrior has yet survived the thunderbolt (of Indra)."
186. The village is full of young men; the month of spring has set in; she is in the
prime of youth; her husband is (very) old; there is old wine (in her house) at her disposal. If under the circumstances she does not become unchaste,is she to die then ?
187. Unless, my dear,you teach me a more effective way of being sulky, I really
can't knit my brows when he comes within my sight, nor keep mum when he starts talking and how can I look indifferent when I am really afraid that he might feel hurt : or else this kills me.
188. For translation vide ŚP S. No. (49.52) supra
189. It is only the blessed women that keep the pestle, long, thick and firm, filled
with a metal ring, always ready at hand in their house.
190. When she imagined that she was with her lover and picked up a quarrel for
some old offence or the other her friends pitied her and wept. They didn't make fun of her as (they knew) it was all a figment of her imagination.
191. When asked 'Who are you thinking of ?” She said, 'Who is there to think
of ?' and burst into tears; we too wept (lit. she made us weep out of pity for her.) She was obviously distressed over you (-your indifference towards her.)
192. The Goddess of Spring lounges on the fresh foliage, trips about on the boughs,
flits around among the tops and stands firmly on the blossoms of the Asoka tree.
193. Not only did the campaka flowers look like the flames of lamps but swarms
of bees hovering over them served the purpose of the black ends, of the wicks.
194. As the arrows shot out by Rāma struck the body of Rāvana he felt a great
thrill of joy : he knew that they came from the hands that were privileged to caress the breasts of Jānaki.