一定yaksha exe被疏忽cution of his own duties, on account of a curse from his master which was to be endured for a year and which was onerous as it separated him from his beloved, made his residence among the hermitages of Ramagiri, whose waters were blessed by the bathing of the daughter of Janaka1 and whose shade trees grew in profusion. That lover, separated from his beloved, whose gold armlet had slipped from his bare forearm, having dwelt on that mountain for some months, on the first day of the month of Asadha, saw a cloud embracing the summit, which resembled a mature elephant playfully butting a bank. Managing with difficulty to stand up in front of that cloud which was the cause of the renewal of his enthusiasm, that attendant of the king of kings, pondered while holding back his tears. Even the mind of a happy person is excited at the sight of a cloud. How much more so, when the one who longs to cling to his neck is far away? As the month of Nabhas was close at hand, having as his goal the sustaining of the life of his beloved and wishing to cause the tidings of his own welfare to be carried by the cloud, the delighted being spoke kind words of welcome to the cloud to which offerings of fresh kutaja flowers had been made. Owing to his impatience, not considering the imcompatibility between a cloud consisting of vapour, light, water and wind and the contents of his message best delivered by a person of normal faculties, the yaksha made this request to the cloud, for among sentient and non-sentient things, those afflicted by desire are naturally miserable: Without doubt, your path unimpeded, you will see your brother?s wife, intent on counting the days, faithful and living on. The bond of hope generally sustains the quickly sinking hearts of women who are alone, and which wilt like flowers. Just as the favourable wind drives you slowly onward, this cataka cuckoo, your kinsman, calls sweetly on the left. Knowing the season for fertilisation, cranes, like threaded garlands in the sky, lovely to the eye, will serve you. Your steady passage observed by charming female siddhas who in trepidation wonder `Has the summit been carried off the mountain by the wind??, you who are heading north, fly up into the sky from this place where the nicula trees flourish, avoiding on the way the blows of the trunks of the elephants of the four quarters of the sky. This rainbow, resembling the intermingled sparkling of jewels, appears before Mt Valmikagra, on account of which your dark body takes on a particular loveliness, as did the body of Vishnu dressed as a cowherd with the peacock?s feather of glistening lustre. While being imbibed by the eyes of the country women who are ignorant of the play of the eyebrows, who are tender in their affection, and who are thinking `The result of the harvest depends on you?, having ascended to a region whose fields are fragrant from recent ploughing, you should proceed a little to the west. Your pace is swift. Go north once more. Mt Amrakuta will carefully bear you upon its head?you whose showers extinguished its forest fires and who are overcome by fatigue of the road. Even a lowly being, remembering an earlier kind deed, does not turn its back on a friend who has come for refuge; how much less, then, one so lofty? When you, remembling a glossy braid of hair, have ascended its summit, the mountain whose slopes are covered with forest mangoes, glowing with ripe fruit, takes on the appearance of a breast of the earth, dark at the centre, the rest pale, worthy to be beheld by a divine couple. Having rested for a moment at a bower enjoyed by the forest-dwelling women, then travelling more swiftly when your waters have been discharged, the next stage thence is crossed. You will see the river Reva spread at the foot of Mt Vandhya, made rough with rocks and resembling the pattern formed by the broken wrinkles on the body of an elephant. Your showers shed, having partaken of her waters that are scented with the fragrant exudation of forest elephants and whose flow is impeded by thickets of rose-apples, you should proceed. Filled with water, the wind will be unable to lift you, O cloud, for all this is empty is light, while fullness results in heaviness. Seeing the yellow-brown nipa with their stamens half erect, eating the kankali flowers whose first buds have appeared on every bank, and smelling the highly fragrant scent of the forest earth, the deer will indicate the way to the cloud. Watching the cataka cuckoos that are skilled in catching raindrops, and watching the herons flying in skeins as they count them, the siddhas will hold you in high regard at the moment of your thundering, having receive