My name is known to all the village, and her name is Ranjanu0101.
The lane that winds to their house is fragrant in the spring with mango flowers.
When their linseed is ripe for harvest the hemp is in bloom in our field.
The stars that smile on their cottage send us the same twinkling look.
The rain that floods their tank makes glad our _kadam_ forest.
The name of our village is Khanjanu0101, and Anjanu0101 they call our river.
My name is known to all the village, and her name is Ranjanu0101.
18
When the two sisters go to fetch water, they come to this spot and they smile.
They must be aware of somebody who stands behind the trees whenever they go to fetch water.
The two sisters whisper to each other when they pass this spot.
They must have guessed the secret of that somebody who stands behind the trees whenever they go to fetch water.
Their pitchers lurch suddenly, and water spills when they reach this spot.
They must have found out that somebody's heart is beating who stands behind the trees whenever they go to fetch water.
The two sisters glance at each other when they come to this spot, and they smile.
There is a laughter in their swift-stepping feet, which makes confusion in somebody's mind who stands behind the trees whenever they go to fetch water.
19
You walked by the riverside path with the full pitcher upon your hip.
Why did you swiftly turn your face and peep at me through your fluttering veil?
That gleaming look from the dark came upon me like a breeze that sends a shiver through the rippling water and sweeps away to the shadowy shore.
It came to me like the bird of the evening that hurriedly flies across the lampless room from the one open window to the other, and disappears in the night.
You are hidden as a star behind the hills, and I am a passer-by upon the road.
But why did you stop for a moment and glance at my face through your veil while you walked by the riverside path with the full pitcher upon your hip?
20
Day after day he comes and goes away.
Go, and give him a flower from my hair, my friend.
If he asks who was it that sent it, I entreat you do not tell him my name--for he only comes and goes away.
He sits on the dust under the tree.
Spread there a seat with flowers and leaves, my friend.
His eyes are sad, and they bring sadness to my heart.
He does not speak what he has in mind; he only comes and goes away.
21
Why did he choose to come to my door, the wandering youth, when the day dawned?
As I come in and out I pass by him every time, and my eyes are caught by his face.
I know not if I should speak to him or keep silent. Why did he choose to come to my door?
The cloudy nights in July are dark; the sky is soft blue in the autumn; the spring days are restless with the south wind.
He weaves his songs with fresh tunes every time.
I turn from my work and my eyes fill with the mist. Why did he choose to come to my door?
22
When she passed by me with quick steps, the end of her skirt touched me.
From the unknown island of a heart came a sudden warm breath of spring.
A flutter of a flitting touch brushed me and vanished in a moment, like a torn flower petal blown in the breeze.
It fell upon my heart like a sigh of her body and whisper of her heart.
23
Why do you sit there and jingle your bracelets in mere idle sport?
Fill your pitcher. It is time for you to come home.
Why do you stir the water with your hands and fitfully glance at the road for some one in mere idle sport?
Fill your pitcher and come home.
The morning hours pass by--the dark waters flows on.
The waves are laughing and whispering to each other in mere idle sport.
The wandering clouds have gathered at the edge of the sky on yonder rise of the land.
They linger and look at your face and smile in mere idle sport.
Fill your pitcher and come home.
24
Do not keep to yourself the secret of your heart, my friend!
Say it to me, only to me, in secret.