18. Gádhi found his body worn out with age, and grown as thin and lean as a dry leaf, and as a withered tamála tree growing in a mountain cave; which for want of moisture soon dwindles into decrepitude.
19. He saw his Chandála family increasing in its members, and himself becoming cramped in his means and crabbed in his speech in his extreme old age.
20. As Gádhi found himself to be the oldest man alive among the Chandálas, and had his comfort in the members of his family in his dotage:—
21. He came to see at last all his family to be swept away by the cruel hand of death, as the rain water carries away the fallen leaves of the forest.
22. He continued to lament over their loss, with his heart rent with sorrow; and his eyes were suffused in tears, like those of a stag deer separated from its companions.
23. Thus passing some days in that forest with his heart overflown with grief, he left at last his natal land, as the aquatic fowls quit their native lake, when its waters and the lotus plants are dried up.
24. He travelled through many countries with his sad and sickly heart, without finding a spot of rest and repose; and was driven to and fro, as a cloud is carried by contrary winds.
25. On one time he entered the opulent city of the Kirs, and observed the birds flying over it, like so many balloons hanging in the air.
26. There he saw rows of trees on both sides of the road, waving their variegated leaves and clusters of flowers like enamelled cloths and gems; and the path strewn over with beautiful flowers of various kinds up to the heels.
27. He then came to the royal road, resembling the milky path of heaven; and found it filled by soldiers and citizens, and their women without number.