That is so wretched! Giving up the thirty-six dishes, my Prince, why enter the saintsliip? Thirty-two is I think meroly used as a doable of sixteen. I ponder day and night my son: From the day that 1 saw thy beauty I have been entranced with the love of it. Weeping she rubbed ashes on her body, and her hear was very grieved. Hear, my wise Queen ; they would be of no use to me. 
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Ab mahilon moil yeh solAh sau lageri dharm ki mdt!
Kaaba Kumda Char
Put all thy Kith upon my head. Tell me the truth with thy lips ; why hast thou come? TA hAi nipat mid An, dayyft tujh ko nahin at! Repeat the Immortal Name, my son, and grieve not in thy heart. Chdr paddrath pdrke lid hdth men thdl. A pbandi se araj lagAve: Give her countless maids and attendants, 20 Under the orders of the Princess.
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He kicked in my womb and groat was my pain! Bigare parlok ; kahi mdn le meri. A baithe Rdni ki atari.
Bahofc din gae bit kAno men pare, kbabar nabin pa? Is inukh se jard palld kholo: Within chaar camp of KdnipA ho lighted a huge lire. Nath khare darbftr, an leodhi pe 1 ulakh 9 jagAyft. I did not understand. PAuchoh indri has karo, jab jAn jog panth. Kumca a subject which involvos all this is well worthy of eveh those, whose mental endowments are of a high order. Sang ki saheli sab charnoh ldgin: Jog lia kis kam?
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Kalian gai ineri birho RAni? Tujli chandri ko nindrd di. Now is thy name immortal in the world and thou hast won glory.
Why thus make my life miserable? Ab kidhu saber, f Mantr! I purpose giving many more of these saintly storios in the succeeding volumo, and it will be found that they are all framed on the same line, and are the outcome of the same mental habits. Jogan banko sang chalorigo, zahar pi y aid pi veil!
Bear thyself straightly, Sir King: Nathji, kyA kabz gyAn sun Ay A? Us hans ko dohrft simftyft: Deceased saints and ordinary ghosts are mixed up, and both are said to be only able to be abroad at midnight.
Chugave chog, pilAve pAui! Kin Bhartari jog gynn so man chit layu. Kalpengo din rain rudan apne kar muhin.
The tendoney of bards is to make their stories run in eyries. Sab ranwAs jharoko 13gA pardA chhuti bauati.
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