51. O Krauncha dwípa! that didst abound in Kalpa arbour which were inseparably clasped by the twining ivy of golden hue; say where art <thou> hid with thy towering Krauncha mountain.
52. O Puskara dwípa! where art thou now with thy limpid fountains, which were ever decked with beds of lotus bushes, sported upon by the silvery swans of Brahmá?
53. O where are thy Kadamba groves gone, with their outstretched branches on all sides; and whose sheltered coverts were frequented by aerial nymphs, for their secluded amusements.
54. O where is the Gomedha dwípa gone with its springs of sweet waters, and the flowery gardens about its holy places? And where <are> those vales and dales, which were beautified by Kalpa trees and their golden creepers?
55. Ah! where is the Saka dwípa with its forests of heavenly and ever verdant arbours, the very remembrance of whose fair spectacles, raises in the minds the sense of holiness and the sensations of heavenly bliss.
56. Ah! where are those tender plants, which waved their leaves at the gentle breeze; and where are those blooming flowers, which had brightened the scene all around.
57. The devastation of all these beauties of the landscape, fills our mind with pity and grief; and we know not how much more piteous and painful must it be to the majority of mankind.
58. Ah! when shall we see again, the sugar-cane field beside the sea of saccharine waters; and the hardened sugar candy on the dry lands about; when shall we see the sweetmeats made of molasses and confectionary dolls of sugar.
59. When shall we see again, sitting on our golden seats on Mount Meru the merry dance of the beauteous Apsaras daubed with sandal paste in their arbours of tála and tamála trees; and wafted by the cooling breeze of Kadamba and Kalpa trees on sylvan mountains?
60. Ah! we remember the memorable Jambuvatí river, which flows with the sweet juice of jambu fruits, and passes through the Jambudwípa to its boundary ocean (i.e. the Indian ocean in the south).