Oh, leave off your dream-women. I am sick of your dreams.
Everything appears darkly ominous. I didn't notice before the hooting of the owl. But now——
Do you hear that dog whining on the far bank of the river?
It seems as though a witch were riding upon him and lashing him.
Surely, if it had been possible, Chandra would have come back by now.
How I wish this night were over.
Do you hear the woman's cry?
Oh, the women, the women. They are ever crying and weeping. But they cannot turn those back, who must go forward.
It is getting unbearable to sit still like this. Men imagine all sorts of things when they sit still. Let us go also. As soon as we are started on our way fear will leave us.
But who will show us the way?