You reach Kailása's glittering height.
There stands a palace decked with gold,
For King Kuvera[736] wrought of old,
A home the heavenly artist planned
And fashioned with his cunning hand.
There lotuses adorn the flood
With full-blown flower and opening bud
Where swans and mallards float, and gay
Apsarases[737] come down to play.
There King Vaiśravaṇ's[738] self, the lord