Vasanta
I cannot keep pace with thee, my friend!
I am tired. It is a hard task to keep
alive the fire thou hast kindled. Sleep overtakes
me, the fan drops from my hand, and cold ashes cover
the glow of the fire. I start up again from
my slumber and with all my might rescue the weary
flame. But this can go on no longer.
Madana
I know, thou art as fickle as a child.
Ever restless is thy play in heaven and on earth.
Things that thou for days buildest up with endless
detail thou dost shatter in a moment without regret.
But this work of ours is nearly finished.
Pleasure-winged days fly fast, and the year,
almost at its end, swoons in rapturous bliss.