19. O my daughter, with thy necklace of the strings of red gunja seeds, gracing the protuberant breast of thy youthful person; and with thy swarthy complexion, seeming as the sea of ink was gently shaken by the breeze. Ah! whither hast thou fled with thy raiment of woven withered leaves, and thy teeth as black as the jet-jambu fruits (when fully ripe).
20. O young prince! that wast as fair as the full moon, and that didst forsake the fairies of thy harem, and didst take so much delight in my daughter, where hast thou fled from us? Ah my daughter! she too is dead in thy absence, and fled from my presence.
21. Being cast on the waves of this earthly ocean, and joined to the daughter of a Chandála, thou wast, O prince! subjected to mean and vile employments, that disgraced thy princely character. (This is a taunt to all human beings that disgrace their heavenly nature, and grovel as beasts while living on earth).
22. Ah! that daughter of mine with her tremulous eyes, like those of the timorous fawn, and Oh! that husband valiant as the royal tiger; you are both gone together, as the high hopes and great efforts of men are fled with the loss of their wealth.
23. Now grown husbandless, and having of late lost my daughter also, and being thrown in a distant and barren land, I am become the most miserable and wretched of beings. Born of a low caste, I am cast out of all prospect in life, and have become a personification of terror to myself, and a sight of horror to others.
24. O! that the Lord has made me a widowed woman, and subjected me to the insult of the vulgar, and the hauteur of the affluent. Prostrated by hunger and mourning at the loss of a husband and child, I rove incessantly from door to door to beg alms for my supportance (as it is the case of most female beggars).
25. It is better that one who is unfortunate and friendless, or subject to passion and diseases, should rather die sooner than live in misery. The dead and inanimate beings are far better than the living miserable.
26. Those that are friendless, and have to toil and moil in unfriendly places, are like the grass of the earth, trampled under the feet, and overwhelmed under a flood of calamities.
27. The king seeing his aged mother-in-law mourning in this manner, offered her some consolation through the medium of her female companions, and then asked that lady to tell him, “who she was, what she did there, who was her daughter and who is his son.”
28. She answered him with tears in her eyes:—This village is called Pukkasa-Ghosha, here I had a Pukkasa for my husband, who had a daughter as gentle as the moon.