THE KURAL
1166. Vast as the sea is the joy that love yieldeth: but when it taketh to burning, the pangs it causeth are deeper far.
1167. I swim in the stormy sea of love, but I spy not any shore thereto : even in the dead of night I am all alone and there is none to console me.
1168. Night in her mercy rocketh all life to sleep : and yet she hath none to help her through but me.[1]
1169. The Night that passeth too slowly for me to-day is crueller in its cruelty than the cruel one himself.
1170. If my eyes can run, even as my heart runneth, to where he is, they need not now be swimming in a sea of tears.
- ↑ All else but me are asleep: by being awake I bear Night company and help her to go on with her work.
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