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O darling, the rains, are marked as they are unbearable with rows of fresh clouds in the sky, the colourful spread of the rainbow and the thick cover of the rainy insects.//153
With my throat chaked with love, as I woke from the dream, I realized : where was I and where my darling ? My lbime must be made of stone as I did not die at that movent. Even though my sould did not depart, because is was bound hard with bonds of sin, how it was that my heart did not broke ? It is indeed madeof adamant.//154.
Giving out low pathetic woulds like a frog, I recite this Doha in the last watch of the night.//155
O night, censuring blat is so great that it cannot be contained by the three worlds; you become frowfold when one is in misery, but is reduced when one is in company of pleasure.// 156
The Autumn While I bewailed thus there arrived those days when Prakrit songs were sungs. The nights were beautiful, but because of love of my darling, I felt them like a saw. // 157
The nights are spent keeping awake in this manner and preserving life, O traveller, in the hope of returning of my darling. Leaving the bed in early morning, recalling in my mind him who can banish Separation, I, looking in the southern direction, glanced all of a sudden with devotion the seer Agastya (canopus) and I realized that the rains had deparated,
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