And seeing also the terraces of their cars empty. Surely Dhananjaya is consuming my stoops like fire assisted by the wind, burning down a heap of straw dried by the heat of the sun that rises at the expiration of the winter season. O Sanjaya, expert as you are in storytelling, relate to me everything that happened.
शून्यान् दृष्ट्वा रथोपस्थान् मन्ये शोचन्ति पुत्रकाः। हिमात्यये यथा कक्षं शुष्कं दातेरितो महान्॥ अग्निहेत् तथा सेनां मामिकां स धनंजयः। आचक्ष्व मम तत् सर्वे कुशलो ह्यसि संजयः॥