i remember a day in my childhood when i floated a paper boat in the ditch
it was a wet day of july, i was alone and happy over my play
i floated my paper boat in the ditch
suddenly the storm clouds thickened, winds came in gusts, and rain poured in torrents.
rills of muddy water rushed and swelled the stream and sunk my boat
bitterly i thought in my mind that the storm came on purpose to spoil my happiness, all its malice was against me
the cloudy day of july is long today, and i have been musingover all those games in life wherein i was loser.
i was blaming my fate for the many tricks in played on me, when suddenly i remembered the paper boat that sank in the ditch.
it was in may, the sultry noon seemed endlessly long, the dry earth gaped with thirst in the heat, when i heard from the riverside a voice calling come, my darling
i shut my book and opened the window to look out
i saw a big buffalo with mud-strained hide standing near the river with placid, patient eyes; and a youth, knee-deep in water, calling it to its bath, i smiled amused and felt a touch of sweetness in my heart.
i was walking by the road, i do not know why, when the noonday was past and and bamboo branches rustled in the wind.
the prone shadows with their outstretched arms clung to the feet of the hurrying light
the koels were weary of their songs
i was waling by the road , i do not know why
th hut by the side of the water is shaded by an overhaning tree
some one was busy with her work, and her hangles made music in the corner
i stood before this hut, i know nto why
the narrow winding road crosse many a mustard field, any many a mongo gorest
it passes by the temple of the village and the market at the river landing place
i stopped by this hut, i do not know why.
years ago it was a day of breezy march when the murmur of the spring was languorous, and mango blossoms were dropping on the dust.
the ripping water leapt and licked the brass vessel that stood on the landing step
i think of that day of breezy marck, i do not know why
shadows are deepening and cattle returning to their folds
the light is grey upon the lonely meadows, and the villagers are waiting for the ferry at the bank
i slowly return upon my steps, i do not know why.
do not keep to yourself the secret of your heart my friend! say it to me, only to me, in secret , you who smile so gently, softly whisper ; my heart will hear it , not my ears
the night is deep, the house is silent, the birds nests are shrounded with sleep
speak to me through hesitating tears, through faltering smiles, through sweet shame and pain, the secret of your heart.
