15. With my infirm body and ears shaking as dried leaves of trees, and supporting myself on a stick, I lived here under the dread of old age.
16. As she was speaking in this manner, and walking in company with Sarasvatí about the village, in the valley of the mountain, she was astonished to see her former seats of pleasure, and showed them to the goddess.
17. This was my flowery arbour, decorated by these torn pátala plants, and this was my garden alcove of flowering Asokas.
18. This is the bank of the pond where the calves were loosely tied to the trees; and this is my pet calf Karniká, which has refrained from browzing the leaves (in my absence).
19. This is my watering woman, now so languid and dirty in her appearance; and weeping these eight days in my absence, with her eyes daubed in tears.
20. This, O goddess, is the place, where I used to eat and sit, and where I slept and walked; and these are the places where I gave and received the things to and from my attendants.
21. This is my eldest son Jyeshtha Sarmá, weeping in the house; and this is my milch cow, now grazing on the grassy plain in the forest.
22. I see this portico and these windows, once dear to me as my person, and besmeared with the dry powder of the huli festival of the vernal season.
23. I see these pulpy plants of gourd planted with my own hands, and dear to me as myself, now spreading themselves over the oven place.
24. I see these relatives of mine, who had been the bonds of my life before, now smoking in their eyes with tears, and carrying the fuel for fire, with beads of rudráksha seeds on their bodies.