Translations Of Shakuntala And Other Works Part 47

The delicate body, weak and suffering, Quite unadorned and tossing to and fro In oft-renewing wretchedness, will wring Even from thee a raindrop-tear, I know-- Soft b.r.e.a.s.t.s like thine are pitiful to others' woe.

x.x.xI

I know her bosom full of love for me, And therefore fancy how her soul doth grieve In this our first divorce; it cannot be Self-flattery that idle boastings weave-- Soon shalt thou see it all, and seeing, shalt believe.

x.x.xII

_Quivering of the eyelids_

Her hanging hair prevents the twinkling s.h.i.+ne Of fawn-eyes that forget their glances sly, Lost to the friendly aid of rouge and wine-- Yet the eyelids quiver when thou drawest nigh As water-lilies do when fish go scurrying by.

x.x.xIII

_and trembling of the limbs are omens of speedy union with the beloved_.

And limbs that thrill to thee thy welcome prove, Limbs fair as stems in some rich plantain-bower, No longer showing marks of my rough love, Robbed of their cooling pearls by fatal power, The limbs which I was wont to soothe in pa.s.sion's hour.

x.x.xIV

But if she should be lost in happy sleep, Wait, bear with her, grant her but three hours' grace, And thunder not, O cloud, but let her keep The dreaming vision of her lover's face-- Loose not too soon the imagined knot of that embrace.

x.x.xV

As thou wouldst wake the jasmine's budding wonder, Wake her with breezes blowing mistily; Conceal thy lightnings, and with words of thunder Speak boldly, though she answer haughtily With eyes that fasten on the lattice and on thee.

x.x.xVI

_The cloud is instructed how to announce himself_

"Thou art no widow; for thy husband's friend Is come to tell thee what himself did say-- A cloud with low, sweet thunder-tones that send All weary wanderers hastening on their way, Eager to loose the braids of wives that lonely stay."

x.x.xVII

_in such a way as to win the favour of his auditor_.

Say this, and she will welcome thee indeed, Sweet friend, with a yearning heart's tumultuous beating And joy-uplifted eyes; and she will heed The after message: such a friendly greeting Is hardly less to woman's heart than lovers' meeting.

x.x.xVIII

_The message itself_.

Thus too, my king, I pray of thee to speak, Remembering kindness is its own reward; "Thy lover lives, and from the holy peak Asks if these absent days good health afford-- Those born to pain must ever use this opening word.

x.x.xIX

With body worn as thine, with pain as deep, With tears and ceaseless longings answering thine, With sighs more burning than the sighs that keep Thy lips ascorch--doomed far from thee to pine, He too doth weave the fancies that thy soul entwine.

XL

He used to love, when women friends were near, To whisper things he might have said aloud That he might touch thy face and kiss thine ear; Unheard and even unseen, no longer proud, He now must send this yearning message by a cloud.

XLI

_According to the treatise called "Virtues Banner," a lover has four solaces in separation: first, looking at objects that remind him of her he loves_;

'I see thy limbs in graceful-creeping vines, Thy glances in the eyes of gentle deer, Thine eyebrows in the ripple's dancing lines, Thy locks in plumes, thy face in moonlight clear-- Ah, jealous! But the whole sweet image is not here.

XLII

_second, painting a picture of her_;

And when I paint that loving jealousy With chalk upon the rock, and my caress As at thy feet I lie, I cannot see Through tears that to mine eyes unbidden press-- So stern a fate denies a painted happiness.

XLIII

_third, dreaming of her_;

And when I toss mine arms to clasp thee tight, Mine own though but in visions of a dream-- They who behold the oft-repeated sight, The kind divinities of wood and stream, Let fall great pearly tears that on the blossoms gleam.

XLIV

_fourth, touching something which she has touched_.

Himalaya's breeze blows gently from the north, Unsheathing twigs upon the deodar And sweet with sap that it entices forth-- I embrace it lovingly; it came so far, Perhaps it touched thee first, my life's unchanging star!

XLV

Oh, might the long, long night seem short to me!

Oh, might the day his hourly tortures hide!

Such longings for the things that cannot be, Consume my helpless heart, sweet-glancing bride, In burning agonies of absence from thy side.

XLVI

_The bride is besought not to lose heart at hearing of her lover's wretchedness_,

Yet much reflection, dearest, makes me strong, Strong with an inner strength; nor shouldst thou feel Despair at what has come to us of wrong; Who has unending woe or lasting weal?

Our fates move up and down upon a circling wheel.

XLVII

_and to remember that the curse has its appointed end, when the rainy season is over and the year of exile fulfilled. Vishnu spends the rainy months in sleep upon the back of the cosmic serpent Shesha_.

When Vishnu rises from his serpent bed The curse is ended; close thine eyelids tight And wait till only four months more are sped; Then we shall taste each long-desired delight Through nights that the full autumn moon illumines bright.

XLVIII

_Then is added a secret which, as it could not possibly be known to a third person, a.s.sures her that the cloud is a true messenger_.