Pealed from the bosom of the darkened cloud,
But never came the long-desiréd rain:
I sought the fruit upon the tree in vain,
The thorn smote deep into my heart instead:
Across the desert wastes of sands I sped
Seeing the silver watercourses gleam,
But it was all a vision and a dream,
And thirsting in the desert I was left
Lone and bereft.
HALI.