The following verses, not included in the Bharata Mallika text of Meghadūtam, are found in Mallinātha’s text:
1
Countless pearl-garlands
with lustrous gems flashing at the centres,
conches, mother-of-pearl and coral branches,
emeralds green as young grass
with fiery rays of light shooting up, lie
spread out for sale in Ujjayinī’s marts.
Seeing, one wonders if the oceans lie
bereft of all its treasures save their waters.
2
Here, in this city,
the Vatsa-monarch carried off
King Pradyota’s beloved daughter:
and here, in this very spot
stood that same king’s grove
of golden palm-trees:
here too, his elephant, proud Nalagiri
crazed with frenzy
tore up
its strong tying-post
to run wild—
thus recounting old tales
skilful story-tellers entertain their visiting kin.
Mallinātha places these two stanzas after st. 33; the verses that follow are part of his Uttaramegham, the Alakā-section of the poem and he places them after st. 68. These six stanzas, part of the Alakā-section of Meghadūtam are not found in all recensions; some old commentators considered some or all of them, interpolations.
Where the hum of intoxicated honey-bees
fill the ever-blossoming trees;
Where rows of wild-geese like jewelled girdles stretch
across pools ever full of lotus-blooms;
where garden-peacocks whose trains ever gleam
resplendent, raise their necks up to call:
where evenings are beautiful, always bright
with moonlight keeping darkness at bay.
Where tears are shed only from an excess of joy,
and no other cause; where pain is caused
only by the God of Love’s arrows of flowers,
easily assuaged by union with the beloved;
where parting comes only through lovers’ little quarrels:
Indeed! Do the lords of wealth know
of no other time of life than youth?
Where maidens sought for as brides by gods
and waited upon by breezes cooled
by Mandākini’s waters, shaded from the heat
by Mandāra-trees growing on her banks,
play hide-and-seek with gems held tight in fists
thrust deep into her golden sands.
Where Yakṣas with inexhaustible treasure-troves
enjoy banquets each day accompanied
by Apsarās, choicest courtesans,
in the Gardens of Light in Alakā’s outskirts,
while Kinnaras sing of the glories of the Lord of Wealth
in high, sweet voices.
An array of richly-dyed cloths,
wine that expertly instructs lovely eyes in graceful play;
sprays of blossoms bursting out of tender shoots,
varied jewels, decorations,
glowing juices worthy of tinting red
the soles of lotus-feet; all things of adornment
for lovely women are brought forth
solely by the Tree of Paradise.
Where horses sleek, glossy, dark, as Palāśa-leaves
rival those that draw the chariot of the sun,
and elephants massive as mountains,
drip streams of rut that pour like your rain;
where the foremost warriors steadfastly face
ten-faced Rāvaṇa in battle fierce—
the scars of their wounds, his gleaming scimitar made
put to shame the lustre of jewels they wear.