By shedding its leaves;
The buffalo mourns
By casting her Horns
The stream weeping fast,
Grows briny at last;
The cuckoo with sighs
Blinds one of its eyes
Bhagtu's grief so intense is,
He loses his senses;
The maid-servant wailing
Has taken to railing;
The Queen, joy enhancing,
Takes refuge in dancing !"
"If that is your mourning, I'll mourn too!" cried the Prince, and seizing his tambourine, he began to thump on it with a will. Hearing the noise, King came in, and asked what was the matter.
"This is the matter!" cried Prince, drumming away with all his might :-
"The ugly hen painted.
By jealousy tainted.
The pretty hen died.
Lamenting his bride,
The cock, bald and bare,
Sobs loud in despair;
The pipal tree grieves
By shedding its leaves;
The buffalo mourns
By casting her Horns
