You have, as you desired, won that rare knowledge
coveted by the Gods;—but think, do you
aspire after nothing further?
Nothing.
Nothing at all! Dive into the bottom of your
heart; does no timid wish lurk there, fearful lest
it be blighted?
For me the sun of fulfilment has risen, and the stars
have faded in its light. I have mastered the
knowledge which gives life.
Then you must be the one happy being in creation.
Alas! now for the first time I feel what torture these
days spent in an alien land have been to you, though
we offered you our best.
Not so much bitterness! Smile, and give me leave
to go.
Smile! But, my friend, this is not your native
Paradise. Smiles are not so cheap in this world,
where thirst, like a worm in the flower, gnaws at the
heart’s core; where baffled desire hovers round
the desired, and memory never ceases to sigh foolishly
after vanished joy.
Devayani, tell me how I have offended?
Is it so easy for you to leave this forest, which
through long years has lavished on you shade and song?
Do you not feel how the wind wails through these glimmering
shadows, and dry leaves whirl in the air, like ghosts
of lost hope;—while you alone, who part
from us, have a smile on your lips?
This forest has been a second mother to me, for here
I have been born again. My love for it shall
never dwindle.
When you had driven the cattle to graze on the lawn,
yonder banyan tree spread a hospitable shade for your
tired limbs against the mid-day heat.
I bow to thee, Lord of the Forest! Remember me,
when under thy shade other students chant their lessons
to an accompaniment of bees humming and leaves rustling.
And do not forget our Venumati, whose swift water
is one stream of singing love.
I shall ever remember her, the dear companion of my
exile, who, like a busy village girl, smiles on her
errand of ceaseless service and croons a simple song.
