Kalidasa: His Concept of Beauty in Nature

KALIDASA¹: HIS CONCEPT OF BEAUTY
IN NATURE

Bhaso Hasah Kalidaso Vilasah. ²Thus, Bana another poet or India of a later period, has laconically spoken in a very alliterative line, to portray the crystallization of Kalidasa’s unsurpassed greatness in Indian literature–especially in dramatic and lyric poetry. His grace (vilasah) in contrast to Bhasa’s mirth (hasah) in picturesque poetic representation has risen to a crescendo in the descriptions of nature amidst the surroundings in which he had lived.

Grace, in the sense that it presents an idea of refinement and in the manner Kalidasa plays in the minds of his readers, springs forth from his sympathetic and minutely accurate knowledge of nature. This, however, is just one of the multitude of facets that made him an Everest in the Himalaya of Indian Kavis(poets).

Kalidasa’s nature beauty ³ reached such a degree of perfection that it has been admired by poets through all the land of Natural Vegetation(India) and abroad. Furthermore, such portrayal of the beauty of nature has most of its richness in the figures he employed. And a high point is reached in his similes and parallelisms. For instance, in Sakuntala, when the king, after having been derided by the Vaikhanasah (hermit) for disturbing the peace of the penance grove, describes to the Suta (charioteer) the peace and contentment emanating from the beauty of the lush foliage of the hermitage. Read– 

Here indeed are grains of wild rice beneath the trees that had fallen from the mouth of the hollow trunks which are filled with parrots; the polished stones for crushing the oily fruit of the ingudiare seen also. The fawns too having acquired confidence bear the sound of human voices; and the paths to the reservoirs are marked with lines by the drippings from the ends of the bark clothes. And also the trees, their roots being washed in the water canals, their branches shaking in the breeze, their colour bright with new sprouts, are barely seen due to the clarified butter; and in these the deer free from fear graze leisurely on the lawns of the garden where the stalks of the darbhagrass have been mown. (Sak.I, 11-12)

The picturesque descriptions of the grove, upon the king’s orders stopping the chase, are so vivid as not to escape our imagination–“Let the buffalos agitate by their plunges the water of the tanks repeatedly struck by their horns, let the mustagrass be made undisturbed by the line of boars in the pool, let this my bow, unstrung, rest in peace.” (Sak.II, 6)

Upon beholding Sakuntala, King Dushyanta goes into fits of parallelism–“If this beautiful figure, rarely seen in the harem of the palaces, belongs to the people of the hermitage, then indeed the shrubs in the garden are distanced in excellence by the creepers of the forest.” (Sak.I, 14) Here, a certain element of symbolic representation of the beauty of nature in Kalidasa’s comparisons is commenced and then carried through the play till its denouement. Then the king, seeing the unfitness of Sakuntala for the duties assigned her by the kulapati(head of the clan, Kasyapa), says to himself, “The sage, who expects to make this artlessly-charming form capable of penance, certainly attempts to cut the branch of a hard samiwood with the edge of a blue lotus leaf.” (Sak.I, 15)

To cite an outstanding simile in Sakuntalamakes one think of the deeply infused nature-beauty in the atman (soul) of Kalidasa, as when Dushyanta describes his beloved on first seeing her from behind the bushes–

This blooming body of hers, by the bark dress fastened delicately with knots upon her shoulders and covering the orbs of her two breasts, does not exhibit the exuberance of her charms like a flower enveloped by a calyx of pale leaves. (Sak.I, 16)

and another, “truly her lip has the colour of a young bud, her two arms resemble the flexible stalks; attractive youth, like the blossoms, pervades her limbs.” (Sak.I, 18)

Through the first three acts we find a large number of similitudes presented. But in the fourth act, which describes the departure of Sakuntala from the hermitage, there contained the most charming beauties of nature, and that one cannot read the act without being struck by the richness and elevation of Kalidasa’s genius, the super-abundant glow of his fancy, his ardent love for the beautiful, his deep sympathy with nature and nature’s loveliest scenes, his profound knowledge of the human heart, his delicate appreciation of its most refined feelings, his familiarity with its conflicting sentiments and emotions. Let us read–

Kasyapa: Hear, O hear, ye neighbouring trees of the penance grove! She who never attempts to drink water first when you have not drunk, and although fond of ornaments she never plucks a blossom out of affection for you, whose highest joy is at the season of the first appearance of your blossoms, even that Sakuntala now departs to the house of her husband. Let her be dismissed by all. (As if listening to a koilverse) Sakuntala is permitted to depart by the trees her sylvan relatives, since a song to this effect by the kokilawas employed as an answer to them.
Voice in the Air: May her way be pleasant all throughout by lakes, full of lotus beds; the sun’s heat moderated by the trees exuberant with leaves, its dust be as soft as the pollen of the lotus, and by pleasant breezes; and may she be prosperous! (Sak.IV, 9, 11)

That in a nutshell is Kalidasa! But he will not allow us to be satiated with only the emotions that we feel on reading these lines. For this “heathen poet, loving God’s creation, his women and his flowers more than we who boast of consecrated powers...his words of wisdom shine...” with the brilliance of the morning dew. Again, Bana gives another facet of Kalidasa’s soul in the lines–

Where find a soul (that) does not thrill?
In Kalidasa’s verse to meet
The smooth inevitable lines like blossom cluster,
Honey sweet?

Perhaps Kalidasa’s concept of beauty in Nature reaches its fullest expression in his two equally immortal poems–Rtusamharaand Meghaduta. Indeed, the beauty of love in the lyric poems appears to be most significant, but nature in its pristine beauty is unsurpassed.

The eyes cannot be deceived by the vividly picturesque in Nature, the ears are deeply enthralled by the sweet melody and symphony of the cries of the denizens of the forests calling their mates and offsprings; the fall of the rain upon the lotus and upon the tranquil lakes, etc.

All these are woven into the feelings and sentiments of the characters: the river, the cloud, the rains, the trees, the denizens of the forests; even the insects have their own beauty and charm in the eyes of Kalidasa.

Rtusamhara, “The Seasons”, or as R. S. Pandit has rendered the Sanskrit title, “The Pageant of Seasons”, opens with summer and concludes with spring. “This,...is a pursuance of the ancient adage: ‘One should wind up (a meal) with a sweet.” The Indian calendar gives us six seasons to the year. As a pageant, the seasons parade before us in six sargasor cantos –each season being the subject: Summer (ushnakala), Rains (varshakala), Autumn (sarada), Early Winter (? purva hemanta), Winter (hemanta), and Spring (vasanta). Indeed, the commentator of the poem, whoever he was, had intensely depicted the distinctively Indian custom of “winding up (a meal) with a sweet.” And to have Spring as the end of the Indian year presents to us the season of the unfolding of the most beautiful scenery before the Indian eye, the sweetest of the melodies to the Indian ear, and the expression of the most sought for goal of human like–Kama (love, desire). Thus:

The warrior Spring
Comes with armorial bearing,
Armed with the nimble-shafts
Of the Swelling mango blossom,
And the murmurous line of bees
Is the twang of his lustrous bow-string;
He is shooting his flowery arrows, my dear,
To pierce the hearts of lovers.

The trees aflower are crowned with glory,
The waters are strewn with lotus and lily?
The balmy breeze liberates fragrance,
And maidens are filled with dreams of love;
The languid perfection of the day
Wanes to a quivering twilight,
And all that breathes, or moves, or blossoms,
Is sweeter, my love, in Spring.

The breath of Spring is in the air,
Spilling its richness everywhere,
It is stroking the waters of the pools,
Coaxing the lily buds to emerge unscared,
Chiding the jewels aglimmer in the moonbeams;
It caresses the girdles
Encircling the waists of maidens,
And it is urging the mango trees
To flaunt their blossoms
In the eye of day.
(Rtu.VI, 1-3)

The rest of the verses in the sargahave a beauty of their own. But we cannot cite them all. However, let us read further:

The sight of the hills adorned with trees
And the varied lovely blossoms,
The sequestered peaks ringing with the echo
Of the voices of singing birds,
And the crevices of rocks strewn with alpine flowers,
Comfort the longing eyes.
(Rtu.VI, 25)

and

With the veiled barbs of the tender mango blossom,
And his good bow the charming palasha bloom,
The mazy line of bees for his bow-string,
The spotless canopy of silken moonbeams,
The low south wind from Malaya
For his lordly rutting elephant,
And the singing cuckoo birds for his chanting minstrels;
May the bodiless Kama,
Bosom friend of Vasanta,
And sovereign conqueror of the world,
Bring to the growing generation
Hours filled with bliss!
(Rtu.VI, 28)

Can there be any sight more beautiful and inspiring than this? Only Kalidasa can rival this his own masterpiece!

But let us see the beauty of nature in each of the seasons as seen by the keen eyes of our poet, and painted by him in the most brilliant colours with his versatile pen.

Summer comes in the fury of its heat–painful to lovers, but it tempers down the predatory instinct of the beasts of the forest, i. e.,

The cobra, with its hood depressed
And spiral gait in uncurled length,
Pants ever and anon,
And rests on the ground in the peacock’s shade.

A quenchless thirst has put an end
To the brave deeds of the lion, lord of beasts:
Panting audibly with jaws agape,
With lolling tongue and quivering mane,
He ignores the nearby elephant,
Though he loves the furious fray.

And the tuskers, too, lose the sense of dread
Of even the lion,
While from the trunks they throw up sprays
Of moisture cool to ease their flanks
Seared by the blistering rays;
And stricken with the growing thirst
They move in quest of water.
(Rtu.I, 13-15)

A delight it is to behold these denizens of the forests in perfect harmony, if only in Summer!

Even the destructive fire has its own beauty beholden to the sight:

The tongues of the flames have the fiery tinge
Of the opening petals of the palasha bloom
The conflagration like glistening sindhura is vermilion;
Swiftly it spreads by the force of the whirlwind,
And embracing the tender leafage
Of creeper and brushwood and tree,
Is filled with a wild ecstacy;
And many a glade and green recess
Is burnt to cinder and ashes.
(Rtu.I, 24)

And then:

May you pass your summers
Where lotus and lily lift their heads in the pools,
And the flowering patala scent the air,
And plunge, at will, in lucid waters, 
And enjoy the argent moonbeams
Shooting lustre into the pearls;
And, at night, on open balcony,
When the air vibrates with song
From a voice that is rich and tender,
May you nestle midst charming women,
In sweet inflowing sleep.
(Rtu.I, 28)

Let us open our eyes to the magnificent sights, and strain our ears to the melody of sounds, the coming of the rains–

The approaching season of Rain, dear love,
Comes like a king in pride of power,
The rain-laden clouds are its rutting war elephants;
The lambent flashes of lightning
Serve for its streaming pennons,
And the reverberating thunder
Is the rattle of its kettle-drums;
It is hailed by the host of lovers
As the royal cavalcade is acclaimed
By crowds of suppliants.
(Rtu.II, 1)

For we are lovers not only of nature, but lovers in the literal sense. The canto, in the language of the roaster poet, suggests to us, in the beauty of this season, love by the wild streams which eagerly embrace the tottering trees on their banks as they rush madly to the ocean, and by the clouds filled with rain which bend down to kiss the rocks of the mountain Peaks. The figure is indeed magnificent!

But look at the vegetation after the fire has been quenched by the rains (vide Rtu. I, 24, supra):

The woodland, where the fire is quenched
By the newly sprinkled showers,
Is gaily decked with Kadamba tassels
In joyous celebration.
It is dancing merrily; its waving boughs
Of trees are tossed by playful winds;
It seems to be smiling sweetly
Through the sharp white blades of the ketaki leaves.
(Rtu.II, 23)

Behold the lady Autumn comes
Clad in the silver kasa blossoms,
Her fair visage is the white lotus bloom,

The tinkling of her anklet bells is heard

In the tuneful cry of wild geese on high;
The harvest of rice with ripening sheaves,
Bending in billows in the fresh young breeze,
Is her graceful figure and supple body;
She emulates the charming bride
With white bridal vesture and lily-like face,
The jingling anklets and slender figure,
And the shoulders bowed with decorous modesty
And woman’s gentle grace.
(Rtu.III, I)

To Kalidasa, the image ofAutumn could not be described in any other terms as expressed in the opening sloka(verse) of the third sarga, No image more vivid than this could possibly give us a scene so intense as this. Throughout the sargathe simile is dominant –e.g., the creepers of the autumn are the fair arms to maidens whose white teeth, seen through their red lips, are like the jasmine revealed through the crimson asokaflowers–leaving in the imagination the constant communion (of man) with the forest, the rivers, etc., each possessing that enchanting beauty, yet beyond the capacities of the master painter to depict upon his canvas. Only Kalidasa with his soul enshrined in purity could give us that picture –native, pristine yet awe-inspiring and glorious!

He concludes the sargawith the benediction that even goes beyond the intellect’s grasp, for it is not just rustic blessing but one that gives life–beautiful in its simplicity. Read–

May Autumn, whose face is the open lotus
And whose eyes are the full-blown nenuphar’s,
In robes ofpurest white arrayed,
With the new blown kasablossoms,
Grant, you, like the ardent sweetheart,

The favours your heart desires!

(Rtu.III, 26)

The early winter is ushered in with the fragrance of the ripening rice, the fading of the lilies, the falling of dew. Read– 

The spreading barley gleams
With a tender green embroidery,
The harvest of rice is ripening;
The lodhra trees are aflower,
And the lilies are fading away,
And so the falling dews
Usher the pleasant season of frost. (Rtu.IV, I)

Again the simile is employed with the fulness of its effect–the fate of the priyangu creeper buffeted by the breeze is that of the maiden severed from her lover. Thus, the whole essence of the season is drawn with the pinings of the maiden separated from her loved one, just as the priyangubecomes severed from the fragrance of the dew that falls at the buffeting of the morning breeze.

Thus, the blessing and assurance in verse 18 leaves in our mind the feeling of joy ennobled by that enshrined forever in the surroundings of man. Read–

May this season of frost with manifold charms
And with the peace of the dreaming landscape,
When the fields are mellow and fruitful with rice;
Ever pleasant and encircled by the calling krauncha
Moving the maids to the depths of their souls,
Add to your welfare and joy!
(Rtu.IV, 18)

Winter brings us into the homes, with their simplicity evoking the aesthetic spirit that elevated the soul to heights unknown. Look at the women in the homes at winter morn:

In the splendour of the morn,
Women in their homes,
With their fresh skins like the golden glowing lotus,
The roseate lower lips, and long eyelids,
Stretched to the ears, suffused at the rims,
Their beauteous oval faces,
And on their shoulders the lovely hair,
Tumbling in cascades,
Bear the semblance of Lakshmi.
(Ritu.V, 13)

Would not these women be the envy of Lakshmi, the goddess of beauty? It would not be vain to suggest that Lakshmi may even incarnate herself into the mortal world to rival these women of glorious but simple beauty!

May this winter time
Rich in dainties, sweets, and lucent syrups,
Charming with the fields of rice,
And cloying with the juice of the sugarcane,
Warm with love’s awakening
And happy fulfilment,
But painful to pining lovers,
Tend to your bliss forever!
(Ritu.V, 16)

This strope ushers us into Spring, with the benediction of bliss forever! Vasanta, “spring,” the “sweet that winds up every meal!”

If in RtusamharaKalidasa has shown us his forte in the description of the seasons–their unsurpassed beauty singularly their own, in Meghaduta, he reveals his masterful portraiture of the superabundant beauty of the rain season. In this lyric, we see the fulfilment of Kalidasa’s forte as a lyricist, surpassing even his masterful portrayals in the Rtusamhara. For Kalidasa’s style in the Meghadutais “flowing, vivid, forcible and is full of pathos and passion, the delineation of which is the special forte of the poet.” He reveals here that intense knowledge of nature which was not only “accurate but (also) sympathetic.”

….The Yaksha in his lovelorn condition fancies that he discovers a friendly messenger in a cloud–one of those noble masses which seem almost instinct with life as they traverse a tropical sky at the commencement of the monsoon, and move with slow and solemn progression from the equatorial ocean to the snows of the Himalaya. In the spirit of this bold but not unnatural personification, the Yaksha addresses the cloud and entrusts to it the message he yearns to despatch to the absent object of his attachment. He describes the direction through which the cloud is to travel, not with the dullness of prosaic detail, but with that true poetic pencil which, by a few happy touches, brings the subject of the description vividly before the mind’s eye. Arrived at the end of the exile’s anticipations, and is dwelt upon with equal delicacy and truth and the poem terminates with the message that is intended to assuage her grief and animate her hopes….⁴

Listen to the Yaksha describing the path that the Cloud-Messenger shall pass to deliver his message to the loved one:

Spying the kadamba flower half-green with filaments that struggle to be born, and the plantain trees which have put forth their first buds on the marshy bank, and smelling the sweet, sweet smell of the earth in the burnt forests, the deer will trace the track of thee, discharging drops of water.

Though thou be desirous of travelling quickly for my darling’s sake, I foresee, my friend, delay on every hill fragrant with kutaja flowers, having been received with cries expressive of welcome by the peacocks whose eyes are full of tears of joy; but then thou wilt try somehow or other to travel rapidly.

At thine approach the Dasarna country will have its garden hedges whitened by Ketaki flowers bursting open at the points of the buds, its trees in the villages alive with many a nest abuilding by familiar crows, the skirts of its Jambu forest dark with ripe fruits and the swans too lingering awhile on their journey.
(Megh.I, 21-23; Nerurkar Ed.)

Every verse exudes the essence of charm that in itself is beautiful. The descriptions of all these sights rise to their own heights of loveliness as the Yaksha describes his beloved city, Alaka:

Where the trees always bear flowers and are full of swarms of intoxicated bees; the lotus ponds are ever full of lotuses and have for their girdles rows of flamingoes; the domestic peacocks with ever glittering plumage lift up their necks for the purpose of crying; and (where) nights that art lit with a constant flood of moonlight are pleasant because of the course of darkness having been completely obstructed.
(Megh.II, 3; Nerurkar Ed.)

Where the path, pursued by women at night, is betrayed at sunrise by Mandara flowers fallen from their curls owing to their (hasty) movements in walking (as they stole along afraid), by the pieces of tender leafy creepers, by the golden lotuses dropped from their ears, by strings of pearls and by necklaces with their strings snapped on (on account of the contact with) their ample breasts.

Where the horses, green like leaves, rival the sun’s coursers, and the elephants, tall like mountains, send forth showers, like thee, due to the flow of their rut, and the best of warriors, who encountered Ravana in battle, have the splendour of their ornaments eclipsed by the scars inflicted by the sword of Chandrahasa.

Where, knowing that Siva, the friend of Kubera, resides in person, Cupid through fear does not as a rule take up his beestrung bow. His task is, however, done by the amorous gestures of clever maids alone, accompanied by the casting of sidelong glances with puckered brows darting out ineffectually at their lovers who are their targets.
(Megh.II, 11-13; Nerurkar Ed.)

But it reaches its acme as he describes his loved one:

The fair one, who may be there, posessed of a slender form, of pointed teeth, of a lower lip as red as a ripe bimbafruit, of a slight waist, of eyes like those of a frightened fawn, of a deep navel, of an idly graceful movement through the weight of her lips and slightly bent down on account of her breasts, as if she were the Creator’s first effort in the way of making a woman (or as if she were the supermost woman gone from the work. shop of God ).
(Megh.II, 22; Nerurkar Ed.)

And then, he describes further the state in which the Cloud-Messenger would find the loved one; but the Yaksha cautions the messenger, thus:

O Cloud, if at that time she should be enjoying the pleasures of sleep, wait for three hours; sit behind her and do not thunder; for, let not her close embrace in which I, her affectionate husband, am met in a dream...
(Megh.II, 37; Nerurkar Ed.)

We find verses no more beautiful than these, the charm, the lovely scenes in their inspiring state. Thus, Kalidasa concludes this masterpiece of lyrical composition with a blessing that in itself reveals his identity with Nature– 

Having done this favour to me, who has preferred an unbecoming request to thee, through friendship or a feeling of pity for me because I am in separation, go, O Cloud, to any regions thou likest, with thy loveliness enhanced by the rainy season. May there be no separation like mine, even for a moment, between thee and the lightning (thy spouse)!
(Megh.II, 55; Nerurkar Ed.)

Compare, however, the beauty of the Yaksha’s separation from his loved one with that found in the story of Kama, the god of love, where we find Rati bewailing her husband, Kama, who had been rendered bodyless (ananga) by Siva, to spring who seeks in vain to console her. She says, “Once departed thy friend will return no more, like the flame which extinguished in the wind comes not . I am like a wick of the flame, sorrow unending encircles me like a smoke.”

Indeed, no critique of Kalidasa’s nature beauty could be written with the finesse that would create in one the desire to his poetry, for reading through his lyrics is itself an inspiration to read them again and again. And yet, every reading deepens one’s feeling for the forests–fostering communion with the creatures of the supreme being–the lakes, the mountains, and all that make Nature possess such a lovely countenance.

Kalidasa’s greatness has reached such proportions that some stories have been woven around this “One of the Nine Gems” of the court of Raja Vikramaditya. J. E. Seneviratne relates that one fine morning Kalidasa was traversing an extensive range of fields, beautiful and rich with plentiful harvest, when his penetrating eyes dawned upon the countenance of a nymph-like beauty bathing by herself at a well. Overcome by the personal charms and voluptuousness of the fair one, Kalidasa made certain improper overtures to her. She contemptuously rejected his overtures, but that contempt was compatible with the dignity of a virtuous woman sensible of the importance of her maiden purity. It is, however, told that with a slokaof tender yet penetrating words, he spoke to her on the spot, flattered her, and eventually brought her under his absolute control. Let us read the sloka–

O Beauteous One! Maha-Brahma has formed thy eyes with lilies, thy face with lotus, thy teeth with white lilies, thy lips the tender leaves of a na tree; and thy limbs with the petals of the champaka. How is it that thy heart alone is cast in stone?

Another story is told about his fleeing from the court of Raja Bhoja, who, in order to lure him (Kalidasa) to the palace, offered a reward to the person who could complete the verse, “Where was a flower ever seen to grow out of a different flower?”, which the king knew to be the best temptation for the refugee. Truly, Kalidasa completed the verse without difficulty by adding, “Nowhere, O Nymph, except in your lily-like countenance, where two flowers of India sportively play,” after his mistress had brought it to his hideout.⁵

The authenticity of the first story has not been determined. But the latter does have sufficient proofs of its historicity and connection with the Raja. Kalidasa’s use of the very insignificant plants, however, inspires in man a profound love and affection for his natural environment. What are the lilies to one whose sentiments and feelings are never tempered by deep love for nature–by the simple leaves of the natree, and the fragile petals of the champaka? Much more so the extremely striking contrast which he presents with the bringing in of the stone as being the “heart” of the virtuous yet voluptuous maiden!

In resume, It may be said that Kalidasa’s realistic delineation of the vegetation in the tapovana (penance grove) leads one to speculate, albeit conservatively, that he was a hermit himself, whose soul had communed with the Perfect Being, after he had withdrawn from the worldly chores of life in the courts of kings. This speculation seems strange but here is a man speaking through his poetry and drama, in a language so crystal clear like the spring waters that have just burst forth from Mother Earth’s bosom.

For a man to be effectively efficient in portraying the beauties of nature, he must be a part of his environment. So does Kalidasa truly present himself as the Yaksha in the Meghaduta.One is also inclined to remark, furthermore, that he himself was speaking in the guise of the Yaksha, banished by Kubera (as the king from whom he fled) although not, perhaps, for the same reason in which he laments his fate. No doubt, he is not able to conceal his native emotions. His elemental love for natural beauties of India–her forests, mountains, lakes, rivers, beasts, and people–has reached its zenith in this piece of work. No matter what his follies were, it is, indeed, undeniable that this is a masterpiece of descriptions of the “deepest yet most tender affection in which passion is purified and ennobled.”

The Yaksha is surrounded by nature with which he was in constant communion. The mango and other trees, creepers, lotuses, and pale red trumpet flowers, fawns, flamingos, bright hued parrots, and Indian cuckoos, in the midst of which he moved, often addressed by him; all these form essential parts of his life.

Finally, Kalidasa was, is, and will always be great because the world has not been able to leave him alone!
–By courtesy of The Diliman Review (Philippines)

ABBREVIATIONS

Rtu                               Rtusamhara (The Seasons)
Nerurkar Ed.               Nerurkar Edition of the Rtusamhara
Megh.                          Meghaduta (Cloud Messenger)
Sak.                             Sakunlala

¹ Kalidasa has been called the “Shakespeare of India” by Sir Monier Williams in his introduction to the first edition of his English translation of Sakuntala. The present writer, however, wishes to disagree with Sir Monier, and prefers to call Shakespeare the “Kalidasa of England.” After all, Kalidasa lived circa 1100 years before Shakespeare.
² “Bhasa is mirth, (whereas) Kalidasa is grace.”
³ The present paper is based on the partial translations of Sakuntalaby the present writer, and readings of Meghadutaand Rtusamhara.
⁴ A. A. Macdonnell, A History of the Sanskrit Literature, pp. 336 -339.
⁵ He was, however, stabbed to death by the same woman, who was more interested in the reward than in the love of Kalidasa.