28. The poor village people are wailing in piteous notes, with their bodies mangled by rolling upon the ground, and trying to yield up their lives with continued fasting. 29. The trees are shedding their tears every day in drops of melting snow, exuding from the cells of their leaves and flowers, resembling the sockets of their eyes. 30. The streets are deserted for want of passers-bye, and have become dusty without being watered. They have become as empty as the hearts of men forsaken by their joys of life. 31. The fading plants are wailing in the plaintive notes of Cuckoos and the humming of bees; and are withering in their leafy limbs by the sultry sighs of their inward grief. 32. The snows are melt down by the heat of their grief and falling in the form of cataracts, which break themselves to a hundred channels by their fall upon stony basins. 33. Our prosperity has fled from us, and we sit here in dumb despair of hope. Our houses have become dark and gloomy as a desert. 34. Here the humble bees, are humming in grief upon the scattered flowers in our garden, which now sends forth a putrid smell instead of their former fragrance. 35. And there the creepers that twined so gayly round the vernal arbors, are dwindling and dying away with their closing and fading flowers. 36. The rivulets with their loose and low purling murmur, and light undulation of their liquid bodies in the ground, are running hurriedly in their sorrow, to cast themselves into the sea. 37. The ponds are as still in their sorrow, as men sitting in their meditative posture (_Samádhi_), notwithstanding the disturbance of the gnats flying incessantly upon them. 38. Verily is that part of the heaven adorned this day by the presence of our parents, where the bodies of heavenly choristers, the Kinnaras, Gandharvas and Vidyádharas, welcome them with their music. 39. Therefore, O Devis! assuage this our excessive grief; as the visit of the great never goes for nothing. 40. Hearing these words, Lílá gently touched the head of her son with her hand, as the lotus-bed leans to touch its offshoot by the stalk. 41. At her touch the boy was relieved of all his sorrow and misfortune, just as the summer heat of the mountain, is allayed by the showers of the rainy season. 42. All others in the house, were as highly gratified at the sight of the goddesses, as when a pauper is relieved of his poverty, and the sick are healed by a draught of nectar. 43. Ráma said:—Remove my doubt, sir, why Lílá did not appear in her own figure before her eldest son—Jyeshta Sarmá.