Stanza 11
Shachi and Urvashi wave celestial yak-tail fans above her head; Savitri serves her feet, as does the queen of Mahesha. The daughters of Varuna, the king of birds, Kubera, and the Moon, Gandharva maidens and lovely serpent-women—all render service. The daughters of youthful kings glitter like lightning, standing nearby with retinues brought from land after land. Among those doe-eyed women, holding every eye in longing, shines the wondrous Kishori, daughter of Mithilesha. (11)
Stanza 12
Not in kewra or ketaki, not in flowers or roses, nor even in the lovely mango blossom; not in parijata, Madhavi, or clove, not in musk or Vaidyanatha sandalwood; not in juhi, bela, champa, or chameli, not in fresh sevati or even the choicest malati; not in attar, perfume, or the blue lotus— nowhere is there fragrance like that of the blessed couple’s moonlike faces. (12)
Stanza 13
Seeing the bride’s beauty, one takes her for Rati; seeing the bridegroom, one imagines Manmatha himself. Beholding the splendor of Siya and Raghubara at their wedding, every rasika in the assembly goes mad with delight. Her celebrated veil, his yellow silk, and the jeweled peacock crown— whoever beholds them praises the blessed fortune of Mithilesha.