They all poured on the head of Shveta a continuous shower of arrows as the clouds, tossed by the wind, pure rain on the mountain breast when summer is passed.
ते तु बाणमयं वर्षं श्वेतमूर्धन्यपातयन्। निदाघान्तेऽनिलोद्धृता मेघा इव नगे जलम्॥