"Oh why does not our child return?
Too long he surely stays."—
Thus to the Muni, blind and stern,
His partner gently says.
"For fruits and water when he goes
He never stays so long,
Oh can it be, beset by foes,
He suffers cruel wrong?
Some distance he has gone, I fear,
A more circuitous round,—
Yet why should he? The fruits are near,
The river near our bound.
I die of thirst,—it matters not
If Sindhu be but safe,
What if he leave us, and this spot,
Poor birds in cages chafe.