TEXT 66

TEXT 66

apy anāthaṁ vane brahman
mā smādanty arbhakaṁ vṛkāḥ
śrāntaṁ śayānaṁ kṣudhitaṁ
parimlāna-mukhāmbujam

Перевод

My dear brāhmaṇa, the face of my son was just like a lotus flower. I am thinking of his precarious condition. He is unprotected, and he might he very hungry. He might have lain down somewhere in the forest, and the wolves might have attacked him to eat his body.