O THAT I were stored with a secret, like unshed rain in summer clouds-a secret, folded up in silence, that I could wander away with. O that I had some one to whisper to, where slow waters lap under trees that doze in the sun. The hush this evening seems to expect a footfall, and you ask me for the cause of my tears. I cannot give a reason why I weep, for that is a secret still withheld from me.
I.71. gagan ghata ghaharani, sadho CLOUDS THICKEN in the sky! O, listen to the deep voice of their roaring; The rain comes from the east with its monotonous murmur. Take care of the fences and boundaries of your fields, lest the rains overflow them; Prepare the soil of deliverance, and let the creepers of love and renunciation be soaked in this shower. It is the prudent farmer who will bring his harvest home; he shall fill both his vessels, and feed both the wise men and the saints.