Page:Works of Tagore from the Modern Review, 1909-24 Segment 1.pdf/260

392 seen through the boughs was studded with stars. The cicalascicadas [sic] chirped under the trees, and by their chirping they were weaving a thin fringe of sound, as it were, around the deep silence slipped from the bosom of the "illimitable inane."

That evening, too, I had taken a little wine and my mind was in the air. When gradually my eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, the shadowy form of that weary-limbed, loose-skirted woman outlined in pale hues against the shadows of the trees stirred an irresistible sensation in my mind. Methought she was a shadow and that I could not by any means clasp her within my arms.

Just then the tops of the yew trees seemed to be a-blaze, as it were. Then the pale yellow moon with waning horns slowly climbed up the sky over the tree-tops. The mellow beams of the moon streamed on the face of the white-robed woman wearily reclining on the snow-white marble. I could not contain myself any longer. Drawing closer I grasped her hands within mine and said "Monoramá, you may not believe me, but I love you and can never forget you."

No sooner had I uttered these words than I started, remembering to have once before said these very same words to another. That very minute a sound of laughter 'went shrilling' over the boughs of the Bokul tree, over the tops of the yew trees, under the pale cresentcrescent [sic] moon, from the east to the far west of the Ganges. I could not say whether it was a heart-rending laugh or a sky-rending cry of agony. That very moment I swooned away and fell from the marble pavement.

When my senses returned, I found myself lying a-bed in my room. Monoramá asked why I had fainted away so suddenly. A tremor passed through my frame as I said "Did you not hear a hoarse laugh rumbling through the sky?"

Monoramá said with a smile that it was not a laugh but that we had heard the rustling of the wings of a long line of birds that were flying across the sky, and expressed her surprise at my having been so easily frightened.

In the day-time I was fully convinced that it was really the sound of the rustling of birds' wings. At that time of the year cranes came there from the north to feed on the churs of the river. But at the approach of evening, I could not continue in that belief. I imagined then that a great laugh had gathered itself, pervading the darkness, and it would burst forth on the lightest occasion, piercing the darkness. At last matters came to such a pass that after evening I dared not speak a word to Monoramá.

Then we left our house and sailed out on a boating excursion. In the month of Agraháyan my fears fled before the breezes of the river. For some days I enjoyed great happiness. Charmed with the beauties of the surrounding scenes, Monoramá too, after a long time, began slowly to unlock her heart to me.

At last we sailed down the Ganges, passed the Jalangi and reached the Padmá. That terrific Padmá was then enjoying, as though, her long winter-sleep like a lean serpent slunk to her hole in torpor. On the north, lay the lifeless, verdureless, trackless, wide expanse of churs stretching far, far, as the eye could reach and on the high banks to the south, the mango-groves of the villages, were trembling with folded hands, as it were, before the very mouth of that terrible ogress of a river;—the Padmá, in her sleep, was turning on her sides and the fissured banks were tumbling down into the waters.

Finding the place suitable for our strolls, I ordered my boat to be moored here.

One evening, we wandered away to a great distance in the course of our stroll. With the fading of the golden light of the setting sun, the clear beams of the new moon shone forth all at once. The white limitless expanse of sand-banks became steeped with the overflowing moon-beams reaching up to the farthest verge of the horizon. I then imagined that we two were alone roaming in the dreamland of the lifeless world of the moon (Chandraloka). A red shawl encircling Monoramá's face dropped under her head and covered her body. When the stillness grew deeper, when there remained nothing but a whiteness and a void without space or bound Monoromá gently put out her hand and grasped mine. She drew closer and stood with complete reliance on me surrendering as it were to me, her whole body, mind, life and youth. With a heart tremulous and pulsating with passion, I