• cakampe — (the mountain) shook
  Perfect of √kamp (to tremble). The same root as kampayan in v.11 (the demon shaking trees). The verse mirrors v.11 verbatim in verb-root: he who shook the trees now shakes the mountain in falling. Sound-pattern as karmic accounting.
• parvataḥ — the mountain
  Raivataka — already named in v.8. The mountain has framed the entire episode, song to slaying. Sthāna participates in līlā; the geography is not a backdrop but a character.
• vāyunā-nauḥ-iva-ambhasi — like a boat by wind upon water
  Simile: vāyu (wind) + nau (boat) + ambhas (water). Even a mountain is, before Bhagavān, as light as a wind-tossed boat. Gauḍīyas note the structural inversion: ordinarily mountains are stability, boats are instability; here mountain becomes boat at His touch.
• kuru-śārdūla — O tiger among the Kurus
  Compound vocative: Kuru + śārdūla (tiger). Śuka addressing Parīkṣit. The endearment-vocative inside narrative is a Bhāgavatam signature: the speaker keeps reaching for the hearer even in the middle of the tale, so that śravaṇa never goes cold.
• sa-ṭaṅkaḥ-sa-vanaspatiḥ — with its cliffs and trees
  Compound: sa- (along with) + ṭaṅka (cliff) + vanaspati (tree). The fall is total; even the parts of the mountain are named because each suffered the tremor. Bhāgavatam's habit of detailing the body of a scene rather than abstracting it.

• What in my life has fallen recently whose collapse actually freed surrounding things?
• Where might letting something fall be the kindest service I could perform?

Raivataka — the mountain that drew Dvivida by song (v.8) — trembles at his fall like a boat tossed on water. The geography itself responds: when Bhagavān slays an asura, the earth registers it bodily, the way a household stirs when a long-running disturbance finally ends.