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.
I CLASP YOUR hands, and my heart plunges into the dark of your eyes, seeking you, who ever evade me behind words and silence. Yet I know that I must be content in my love, with what is fitful and fugitive. For we have met for a moment in the crossing of the roads. Have I the power to carry you through this crowd of worlds, through this maze of paths? Have I the food that can sustain you, across the dark passage gaping with arches of death?