MY HEART, like a peacock on a rainy day, spreads its plumes tinged with rapturous colours of thoughts, and in its ecstasy seeks some vision in the sky, with a longing for one whom it does not know. My heart dances. The clouds rumble from sky to sky the shower sweeps horizons, the doves shiver in silence in their nests, the frogs croak in the flooded fields, and the clouds rumble. O who is she on the king's tower that has loosened the braid of her dark hair, has drawn over her breasts the blue veil? She wildly starts and runs in the sudden flashes of lightning and lets the dark hair dance on her bosom. Ah my heart dances like a peacock, the rain patters on the new leaves of summer, the tremor of the crickets' chirp troubles the shade of the tree, the river overflows its bank washing the village meadows. My heart dances.
