She said:
In the woodlands
the laburnum trees in their first flowering
with their long trailing blossoms
which attract the bees in swarms 
reminding me of the tresses of young girls
decorated here and there
with bright golden ornaments
are trying to tell me
that the rainy season is upon us.
But for myself
I don't believe a word of it.
My lover is not one to tell lies.
(21)
Her friend said:
Your eyes are filled with tears, my dear
(22)
Separated from her lover, the heroine consults the fortune teller. When she sings a song in praise of the deity who dwells on the same mountain as the lover, her friend sees an opportunity of raising her spirits. Her friend said:
Fortune teller!
(23)
She said:
Spring is here
(24)
She said:
There was no-one else there
(25)
Her friend said:
She may indeed speak ill of him
(26)
She said:
A sickly pallor is waiting
(27)
The village sleeps unaware of the pain caused by her separation from her secret lover. She said:
Perhaps I should start some rumours
(28)
Her friend tells her lover that she will not meet him but he is unable to persuade his heart that the cause is hopeless. The lover speaks to his heart:
My heart
(29)
She said:
Just listen to this, my friend
(30)
The heroine reveals her secret love to her friend. She said:
Dancing arm in arm
(31)
He said:
The love that knows
(32)
She speaks, knowing that she can be overheard by her lover's messenger who has come to intercede on his behalf. She said to her friend:
Sister, he is such a young man
(33)
Denied her love and closely watched by her family, the heroine feigns sleep. Her friends announces to her that her secret lover has come to claim her in marriage and that his request has been received favourably. Her friend said:
Forget the pain of sleeping alone
(34)
Even though it is still winter and they agreed that he should return in the spring , she is unable to tolerate her lover's absence. She said:
Drenched by a thin drizzle
(35)
The heroine comforts her friend who is concerned for her following her lover's failure to return. She said:
'As my heart is my witness
(36)
Her friend said:
He loves you
(37)
She said:
My friend
(38)
She said:
They say that his path
but who could think of abandoning
such a one as you
whose luminous forehead
lures buzzing insects
with a fragrance
like that of the kadamba trees
which adorn the mountain slopes in spring,
their branches laden with whorled petals.
If he does leave
it won't be without you.
You whose lovely long plaited hair
looks like a string of white beads
carved from shells of the conch!
Fortune teller!
Could you sing that song again?
Please, do sing it again -
that song you sang just now
about his beautiful and lofty mountain home.
but can it be that these blossoms
which stand out so brightly
against the neem tree's dark trunk
are destined to wither and die
without my lover ever seeing them?
With him still away,
the wicked tongues
of these noisy gossip-mongers
have left me quite crushed
like a ripe fruit
which falls from the silvery branches
of an atti tree near the river's edge
to be mashed to a pulp
by swarming crabs.
on the day he took me for his wife
and if he denied it 
what should I do?
There were some herons -
their thin yellow legs
looking like millet stalks -
but even they were busy
look for minnows in the stream
as it rushed swiftly along.
as if he were quite unworthy,
her lover from the country
where peacocks
high up in the venkai trees
with their stout trunks
and long soaring branches
on which the last bud
has turned to blossom,
look like young maidens
picking flowers,
but see,
that male monkey
roaming the hillside
with his sturdy young son
showing his red mouth
and thorn-like fangs
as he eats the ripe mango fruits -
he has seen with his own eyes
and knows exactly
the extent of the young man's wickedness -
and he is no liar!
to envelop these dark thighs
freckled with beauty spots
and their charms
will be as little use to me
as they are to my lover.
It's as if one of our best cows
poured its milk
not into the calf's mouth
nor into the milk pail
but onto the ground - pointlessly.
amongst them
or pummel them with my fists
or strike a pose
and start screaming at the top of my voice -
I've no idea what I could do
to rouse the village as it sleeps
oblivious to what I am suffering
out here in this bitter swirling wind.
you have heard no good news
and plenty bad.
Overwhelmed by a flood of desire
which you cannot contain
like an unfired pot
left outside in a rainstorm
you have set your sights
on something very difficult -
and your pleas would be fine
if there were anyone to hear them
and hold them in her heart
like a female monkey
holding her young one tight
as she travels in the higher branches.
last night I was fooled
by a dream
in which my lover,
a master in the art of falsehood,
held me in his arms.
It seemed so real
that when I finally woke up
I found myself stroking the bedding.
I'm like a water lily
wilting in a cloud of buzzing insects
lonely, and so very sad.
with the village girls
dancing amongst the crowds
at the huntsmen's festivals
dancing everywhere -
I haven't seen my noble lover
anywhere -
I have become a dancer
and my proud and lordly lover
who has the power to loosen
these shiny bangles
cut from conch shells
has become my partner in the dance.
whether it is morning, afternoon or lonely evening,
whether it is the break of day
or dead of night when the village sleeps,
is not true love.
It would be a sin indeed
if I were take a palmyra branch for a horse
and ride it through the village
so that everyone knew the truth,
but it would be no less a sin
to carry on living and not be with her.
and so thin from begging for his food -
and yet even here in a foreign country
he appears to be very distinguished.
What a noble figure he must make
in the assemblies of his own land!
guarded by the womenfolk
who never leave you alone
and denied by the menfolk
who know nothing of your secret.
The whole village is rejoicing
at the joyful news!
For it is none other than the lover
of our fair maid
whose curling tresses
frame a brow whose glory
rivals that of Mantai's fair city
ruled over by the Ceran King
whose victorious warriors
passing near the ocean's edge
startle flocks of cranes
with their jubilant cries.
borne on the north wind's icy gusts
the folded buds of the ripe sugar cane
which remind me of green snakes
swollen with their young
are only just opening.
Do these eyes of mine
have no shame whatsoever
to agree a time
for our lover's return
and be weeping already?
I shall never desert you'
said my lover
from the mountain country
where great vines
spread their tendrils
over the bulk of wild elephants
sleeping amongst the boulders.
And yes, on that day
when he held these fair shoulders
and made love to me,
he swore an undying oath.....
but don't let any of that
be a cause of pain to you, my friend.
and he'll hurry back to you
for out there
on the road he's travelling
he will see bull elephants
using their huge trunks
to strip the bark from yaa trees
with their dry branches
to assuage their mates' hunger,
so great is the love they bear them.
this love for my lover
from the mountain land
where a young monkey
plays with an egg
laid on a rocky crag
by a forest peacock,
rolling it about
in the mid-day sun -
would be well enough
for anyone in whose power it was
not to keep thinking about him
after he saw the tears
in her kohl-darkened eyes
and left anyway.
lies through mountains and deserts
where a cruel wind blows
its searing gusts
rattling the dry seeds
in the ripened pods of the vagai trees -
he took a hard road indeed
when he spurned
the shelter of this bosom.