The Rice was Under Water
The Rice was under water, and the land was scourged with rain,
The nights were desolation, and the day was born in pain.
Ah, the famine and the fever and the cruel, swollen streams,
I had died, except for Krishna, who consoled me—in my dreams!
The Burning-Ghats were smoking, and the jewels melted down,
The Temples lay deserted, for the people left the town.
Yet I was more than happy, though passing strange it seems,
For I spent my nights with Krishna, who loved me—in my dreams!
Confirmed with Last Poems: Translations from the Book of Indian Love by Laurence Hope, Project Gutenberg, 2004.
Submitted by Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
Text added to the website: 2019-01-10.
Last modified: 2019-01-10 12:55:59
Line count: 8
Word count: 87
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