Krishna sat on a stone, and rested his head on his hand. The maiden stood before him, trembling and timid.
Meanwhile the dawn began to brighten the sky on the east. The surface of the lake, the palms, and the bamboos were gilded. At the water, rosy herons, blue storks, in the forest, peacocks and bengalee were heard, and these were accompanied by distant sounds of strings stretched over pearl shells, and by words of human song. Krishna awoke from meditation and said,—
"That is Valmiki, the poet, saluting the rising sun."
After a while the curtain of purple flowers covering the climbing plants was pushed aside, and Valmiki appeared at the lake.
When he saw the incarnate lotus the poet ceased to play, the pearl shell fell from his grasp to the earth, his arms dropped at his sides, and he stood dumb, as if the mighty Krishna had made him a tree at the edge of the water.
The god was delighted with this wonder at his work, and said,—
"Awake, Valmiki, and speak."
And Valmiki said,—
"I love!"
This was the only word that he remembered, and the only word that he could utter.