Sexual Life in Ancient India: A Study in the Comparative History of Indian Culture v2.c11.150.1

v2.c11.150.1

how the trees, rising as though to mountain-heights, stand up like rocky steeps. But I, who am parched through with sorrow, I am tortured by agonies of soul in my grief for Bharata, and for the raped princess of Videha. The flower-crowned creepers around us clasp everywhere the flower-laden trees. This season with its grateful wind, the scented moon of spring, when flowers and fruits have come forth on the trees, kindles a strong love. Behold, O son of Sumitrā, all the shapes of the rich-flowered forests, that shed a rain of flowers, as the clouds shed water. And on the lovely plains all the manifold trees of the grove, shaken by the strength of the wind, bestrew the earth with blossoms. The wind blowing forth from the mountain-caves seems to sing, through the notes of the drunken kokila-bird, bringing, as it were, the trees to dance. How grateful is its touch as it blows along cool as sandal-wood, carrying hither a pure scent and bearing weariness away. The trees seem to sing with their wreaths of bees; their tops are roofed with flowers, much shaken by the up-tossing wind. The joyfully stirred water-cock by the enchanting waterfall, sets me, a prisoner of love, sorrowing with his notes. Ere now in the hermitage my beloved heard his call, called me to her in delight and welcomed him in utmost joy. With the water-cock’s cry of love’s delight, and the song of the male kokila-bird these trees resound, setting the passion of my love afire.