Vishnupurana 6.5.28

6.5.28

dūrapraṇaṣṭanayano vyomāntargatatārakaḥ
nāsāvivaraniryātalomapuñjaś caladvapuḥ //

When old age arrives, the body is infirm; the limbs are relaxed; the face is emaciate and shrivelled; the skin is wrinkled, and scantily covers the veins and sinews; the eye discerns not afar off, and the pupil gazes on vacuity; the nostrils are stuffed with hair; the trunk trembles as it moves; the bones appear beneath the surface; the back is bowed, and the joints are bent; the digestive fire is extinct, and there is little appetite and little vigour; walking, rising, sleeping, sitting, are all painful efforts; the ear is dull; the eye is dim; the mouth is disgusting with dribbling saliva; the senses no longer are obedient to the will; and as death approaches, the things that are perceived even are immediately forgotten. The utterance of a single sentence is fatiguing, and wakefulness is perpetuated by difficult breathing, coughing, and painful exhaustion. The old man is lifted up by somebody else; he is clothed by somebody else; he is an object of contempt to his servants, his children, and his wife. Incapable of cleanliness, of amusement, or food, or desire, he is laughed at by his dependants, and disregarded by his kin; and dwelling on the exploits of his youth, as on the actions of a past life, he sighs deeply, and is sorely distressed. Such are some of the pains which old age is condemned to suffer. I will now describe to you the agonies of death.