Since my heart does not from grief break into a hundred pieces, it seems, O you of the Vrishni race, that it does not die with men when its hour does not come.
दुर्मरं बत वार्ष्णेय कालेऽप्राप्ते नृभिः सह॥ यत्र मे हृदयं दुःखाच्छतधा न विदीर्यते।