18
When the two sisters go to fetch water, they come to this spot
and they smile.
They must be aware of somebody who stands behind the trees
whenever they go to fetch water.
The two sisters whisper to each other when they pass this spot.
They must have guessed the secret of that somebody who stands
behind the trees whenever they go to fetch water.
Their pitchers lurch suddenly, and water spills when they reach
this spot.
They must have found out that somebody's heart is beating who
stands behind the trees whenever they go to fetch water.
The two sisters glance at each other when they come to this spot,
and they smile.
There is a laughter in their swift-stepping feet, which makes
confusion in somebody's mind who stands behind the trees
whenever they go to fetch water.
19
You walked by the riverside path with the full pitcher upon your
hip.
Why did you swiftly turn your face and peep at me through your
fluttering veil?
That gleaming look from the dark came upon me like a breeze that
sends a shiver through the rippling water and sweeps away to
the shadowy shore.
It came to me like the bird of the evening that hurriedly flies
across the lampless room from the one open window to the other,
and disappears in the night.
You are hidden as a star behind the hills, and I am a passer-by
upon the road.
But why did you stop for a moment and glance at my face through
your veil while you walked by the riverside path with the full
pitcher upon your hip?
20
Day after day he comes and goes away.
Go, and give him a flower from my hair, my friend.
If he asks who was it that sent it, I entreat you do not tell him
my name—for he only comes and goes away.
He sits on the dust under the tree.
Spread there a seat with flowers and leaves, my friend.
His eyes are sad, and they bring sadness to my heart.
He does not speak what he has in mind; he only comes and goes
away.
21
Why did he choose to come to my door, the wandering youth, when
the day dawned?
As I come in and out I pass by him every time, and my eyes are
caught by his face.
I know not if I should speak to him or keep silent. Why did he
choose to come to my door?
The cloudy nights in July are dark; the sky is soft blue in the
autumn; the spring days are restless with the south wind.
He weaves his songs with fresh tunes every time.
I turn from my work and my eyes fill with the mist. Why did he
choose to come to my door?
22
When she passed by me with quick steps, the end of her skirt
touched me.
From the unknown island of a heart came a sudden warm breath of
spring.
A flutter of a flitting touch brushed me and vanished in a
moment, like a torn flower petal blown in the breeze.
It fell upon my heart like a sigh of her body and whisper of her
heart.