Gaudavaho

Author(s): Vakpatiraj, Narhari Govind Suru, P L Vaidya, A N Upadhye, H C Bhayani
Publisher: Prakrit Text Society Ahmedabad

Page 325

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Gajdavaho
her ear (to extinguish ) the rows of lustrous lamps in the form of your enemies of great valour."
245. “Your sword verily, O Lord, has multiform blades, since your enemies collapse (and go down on their knees ), being frightened away even ( at the sight) of another's plight ( wrought by your sword )."
246. “They are not fire-sparks that fall out from your sword striking the armours; but this is veritable gold, which the Goddess ( residing) here (on your sword) emits to succour the supplicants."
247. “All your (diplomatic) missions (kajjāim) are successfully accomplished just by your fore-finger, a veritable female envoy of your mighty, massive arm, when (it is ) raised and held erect, though quivering, ( kaakampam ) as if in anger."
248. “You have so ascended on top of the world, elbowing out (others) on all the sides (pāsāakkameņa), that only the crown (on your head ) looms (over all ) like a dome (on a mansion )."
249. “The spot of musk (maa), transferred to your shoulders by your beloveds, looks like a mud-remnant left over in the discharge of your duty of bearing the earth's burden.”
250. “The thick concentration of red lustre, gathered from the blossoms of red rubies in the ear-ornaments (of your ladies ), flashes bright on you ( your face ) like an imprint of red lac-dye from the foot of Lakşmi constantly roving over your eye-brows."
251. “The supplicants, in the act of homage ( at your feet), are happy and satisfied, as they ascend (in their reflection ) the serried steps of your lustrous toe-nails, (feeling) as if they have entered the caves of reddish jewels."
252. “ Laksmī lies concealed inside your sword under the guise of the fire-flames discharged by its blows on the armours (of enemies), looking as if (she is ) wearing (her husband's )-Visņu's garment, exchanged (by her for her own) in her flurried arrival."
253. Thus is (he) who is praised for merits, which are facts (bhuattha), by bards and great poets, with their throats becoming painful and (voices) faltering at the flood of joy.