Vasanta
I CANNOT keep pace with thee, my friend! I am tired. It is a
hard task to keep alive the fire thou hast kindled. Sleep
overtakes me, the fan drops from my hand, and cold ashes cover
the glow of the fire. I start up again from my slumber and with
all my might rescue the weary flame. But this can go on no
longer.
Madana
I know, thou art as fickle as a child. Ever restless is thy play
in heaven and on earth. Things that thou for days buildest up
with endless detail thou dost shatter in a moment without regret.
But this work of ours is nearly finished. Pleasure-winged days
fly fast, and the year, almost at its end, swoons in rapturous
bliss.