O king, when at the end of every year that wicked Asura, lying covered with sands, wakes up and begins to breathe, then the whole earth with her mountains, forests and woods begins to tremble. His breath raises up clouds of sands and covers the very sun. For seven days continually the earth trembles and sparks and flames of fire mixed with smoke spread all over the ground. For all this, O king, I cannot enjoy peace in my hermitage. O king of kings, kill him therefore for the good of the world.