_Nandini_
Let me sing you the latest song that I’ve learnt.
(_Sings_)
_“I love, I love” is the cry that breaks out
from the bosom of earth and water.
The sky broods like an aching heart,
the horizon is tender like eyes misted with tears._
_Voice_
Enough! Enough! stop your singing!
_Nandini_
(_Sings on_)
_A lament heaves and bursts
on the shore of the sea,
The whispers of forgotten days
are born in new leaves to die again._
See, Bishu, he has left the dead frog there and disappeared. He is
afraid of songs.
_Bishu_
The old frog in his heart yearns to die when it hears singing, that’s
why he feels afraid. My mad girl, why is there a strange light on
your face to-day, like the glow of a distant torch in the sky?
_Nandini_
News has reached me, Rañjan is coming to-day.
_Bishu_
How?
_Nandini_
Let me tell you. Every day a pair of blue-throats[1] come and sit
on the pomegranate tree in front of my window. Every night, before
I sleep, I salute the pole star and say: Sacred star of constancy,
if a feather from the wings of the blue-throats finds its way into
my room, then I will know my Rañjan is coming. This morning, as soon
as I woke, I found a feather on my bed. See, here it is under my
breast-cloth. When I meet him I shall put this feather on his crest.
_Bishu_
They say blue-throats’ wings are an omen of victory.
_Nandini_
Rañjan’s way to victory lies through my heart.
_Bishu_
No more of this; let me go to my work.
_Nandini_