“Lovely maiden! for the love of heaven,
Wilt thou give me one cup of cooling water?
For a fiery fever glows within me;
From my steed I dare not rise, fair maiden!
For my steed, he hath a trick of evil—
Twice he will not let his rider mount him.”
Warm and earnest was the maiden’s pity,
And, with gentle voice, she thus addressed him:
“Nay! not so—not so, thou unknown warrior!
Harsh and heavy is Ressava’s water;