It was on the 9th of February that I had had such an unpleasant interview with the Nepālese Prime Minister, and was told to wait on him again two days after. On the way back to the Tower, deeply moved by what I had heard, I saw the grand appearance of Gaurīshankara, the highest peak in the world, now mottled by clouds, and I gave vent to my feelings thus:
What gnawing torments do I suffer now?
Suspense, distrust and doubts o’erwhelm me.
These melt not or dissolve not from my heart
As yonder snows unmelted, hard to melt.
Those friends of mine, what fate attends them now?
’Tis hard their painful destiny to guess:
Incarcerated and in durance vile
In regions far beyond those snowpeak clouds;
Communing with myself in dire suspense