The face of heaven, thus shrouded in the night, Is only for a single instant bright, When momentary lightning gives us sight; Else is it dark alway.
Now sleeps the world as still as in the night Within the house of rain where naught is bright, Where hosts of swollen clouds seem to our sight One covering veil of gray. 24
The stars are lost like mercies given To men of evil heart; Like lonely-parted wives, the heaven Sees all her charms depart. And, molten in the cruel heat Of Indra's bolt, it seems As if the sky fell at our feet In liquid, flowing streams. 25
The clouds first darkly rise, then darkly fall, Send forth their floods of rain, and thunder all; Assuming postures strange and manifold, Like men but newly blest with wealth untold. 26
The heaven is radiant with the lightning's glare; Its laughter is the cry of myriad cranes; Its voice, the bolts that whistle through the air; Its dance, that bow whose arrows are the rains. It staggers at the winds, and seems to smoke With clouds, which form its black and snaky cloak. 27
_Vasantasena._ O shameless, shameless sky!
To thunder thus, while I To him I love draw nigh. Why do thy thunders frighten me and pain? Why am I seized upon by hands of rain? 28
Did I then give thee of my love before, That now thy clouds like mighty lions roar? Ah no! Thou shouldst not send thy streaming rain, To fill my journey to my love with pain. 29
For Ahalya's sweet sake thou once didst lie; Thou knowest lover's pain. As thou didst suffer then, now suffer I; O cruel, cease thy rain. 30
Thunder and rain and lighten hundredfold Forth from thy sky above; The woman canst thou not delay nor hold Who journeys to her love. 31
Let thunders roar, for men were cruel ever; But oh, thou maiden lightning! didst thou never Know pains that maidens know? 32
_Courtier._ But mistress, do not scold the lightning. She is your friend,
This golden cord that trembles on the breast Of great Airavata;[67] upon the crest Of rocky hills this banner all ablaze; This lamp in Indra's palace; but most blest As telling where your most beloved stays. 33
_Vasantasena._ And here, sir, is his house.
_Courtier._ You know all the arts, and need no instruction now. Yet love bids me prattle. When you enter here, you must not show yourself too angry.