Page:Little Clay Cart (Ryder 1905).djvu/119

P. 142.9]

Rages within the sky, and shows him bold

'Mid beams that to the moon allegiance owe,

Like a hero-king within the hostile hold

Of his unwarlike foe.

Vasantasenā. True, true. And more than this:

As dark as elephants, these clouds alone

Fall like a cruel dart—

With streaks of lightning and with white birds strewn—

To wound my wretched heart.

But, oh, why should the heron, bird of doom,

With that perfidious sound

Of "Rain! Rain! Rain!"—grim summons to the tomb

For her who spends her lonely hours in gloom—

Strew salt upon the wound?

Courtier. Very true, Vasantasenā. And yet again:

It seems as if the sky would take the guise

Of some fierce elephant to service bred;

The lightning like a waving streamer flies,

And white cranes serve to deck his mighty head.

Vasantasenā. But look, sir, look!

Clouds, black as wet tamāla-leaves, the ball

Of heaven hide from our sight;

Rain-smitten homes of ants decay and fall

Like beasts that arrows smite;

Like golden lamps within a lordly hall

Wander the lightnings bright;

As when men steal the wife of some base thrall,

Clouds rob the moon of light.

Courtier. See, Vasantasenā, see!

Clouds, harnessed in the lightning's gleams,

Like charging elephants dash by;