Oh for one moment of oblivion!
Why toss the riddle ever and forever?
’Tis solved—I know how soon! I should be busy
Even as my maids who slack the drag of time
By hearkening every tone and vying guesses
Which bird it was that sang each note, and whether
’Twas red and whether green. Pah, what a din!
Is Karna there with him? Still—all is still!
’Twas naught—I could have known. How am I altered!
When other have I asked a sound its whence?