Verse 57

⁵⁰There was some hunter in a wood, made to be the death of birds, who spread his net and set it here and there, luring them in. ⁵¹A pair of kulinga birds was seen moving about there. Of the two, the female was suddenly lured in by the hunter. ⁵²Held fast by time, she, his queen, stuck in the strings of the net. Seeing her fallen so, the kulinga bird was struck through with grief, and out of love, helpless and wretched, he lamented over the wretched one. ⁵³Ah, the god is without pity, the mighty one. What will he do with her, poor and unpitied, who is grieving for miserable me? ⁵⁴Let the god take me too if he likes. What use to me is half of myself? Living on in this misery with my life cut in two is nothing but pain.

⁵⁵And how shall I feed those little ones whose wings have not come, with their mother gone? My poor young are waiting in the nest for their mother. ⁵⁶As the kulinga was lamenting like this close by, sick with the loss of his beloved and his throat full of tears, that same fowler, sent by time and lying hidden, pierced him with an arrow. ⁵⁷So you, not seeing that your own selves are going, without understanding, will not reach your husband by grieving even in a hundred years.