Page:The Fugitive (Tagore).djvu/57



Oh Sakhi, my sorrow knows no bounds.

August comes laden with rain clouds and my house is desolate.

The stormy sky growls, the earth is flooded with rain, my love is far away, and my heart is torn with anguish.

The peacocks dance, for the clouds rumble and frogs croak.

The night brims with darkness flicked with lightning.

Vidyapati asks, "Maiden, how are you to spend your days and nights without your lord?" Rh