It came moss that as that one of expansive eyes was standing on the mit of the mount, the Wind gently stole away her elegant bow cloth with crimson skirts.
तस्या वस्त्रं विशालाक्ष्याः पीतं रक्तदशं शुभम्। स्थितायाः पर्वतस्याग्रे मारुतोऽपहरच्छनैः॥