Urging the horses to run as fast as the wind he went on his journey crossing difficult streams, hills and forests. There was such a great anxiety in his heart that nothing would please him. He thought to himself, “Would that I could fly home.” Every moment hung heavy like an year. In this way Bharata drew near to the city. Evil omens occurred to him as he entered the city. Crows cawed in an ominous way at undesirable places. Donkeys and jackals gave a cry that foreboded evil and which pierced Bharata to the heart as he listened to it. Lakes and rivers, groves and gardens had lost their charm; while the city wore a particulary dismal look. Birds and fawns, horses and elephants were too wretched to look at, undone by the fell disease of separation from RŒma. The people of the city, both men and women, were extremely miserable as though all of them had lost everything they had in their possession. (1—4)