Shatakatraya 2.98

2.98

At the season when the glowing golden priyaṅgu shines, when bees revel in the blooming kunda flowers,
and the vast dwelling of coral trees is set in motion by frosty winds,
for those youths to whose necks no deer-eyed maiden clings even for a moment, capable of crushing the cold,
the night, with its prolonged watches, passes like the abode of Yama.