ON THIS SIDE of the water there is no landing; the girls do not come here to fetch water; the land along its edge is shaggy with stunted shrubs; a noisy flock of saliks dig their nests in the steep bank under whose frown the fisher-boats find no shelter You sit there on the unfrequented grass, and the morning wears on. Tell me what you do on this bank so dry that it is agape with cracks? She looks in my face and says, 'Nothing, nothing whatsoever.' On this side of the river the bank is deserted, and no cattle come to water. Only some stray goats from the village browse the scanty grass all day, and the solitary water-hawk watches from an uprooted peepal aslant over the mud. You sit there alone in the miserly shade of a shimool, and the morning wears on. Tell me, for whom do you wait? She looks in my face and says, 'No one, no one at all!'
II. 100. nis din salai ghaw A SORE PAIN troubles me day and night, and I cannot sleep; I long for the meeting with my Beloved, and my father's house gives me pleasure no more. The gates of the sky are opened, the temple is revealed: I meet my husband, and leave at His feet the offering of my body and my mind.
