THE RAINY DAY

SULLEN clouds are gathering fast over the black fringe of the forest.

O child,do not go out!

The palm trees in a row by the lake are smiting their heads against the dismal sky; the crows with their draggled wings are silent on the tamarind branches,and the eastern bank of the river is haunted by a deepening gloom.

Our cow is lowing loud,tied at the fence.

O child,wait here till I bring her into the stall.

Men have crowded into the flooded field to catch the fishes as they escape from the overflowing ponds; the rain water is running in rills through the narrow lanes like a laughing boy who has run away from his mother to tease her.

Listen,someone is shouting for the boatman at the ford.

O child,the daylight is dim,and the crossing at the ferry is closed.

The sky seems to ride fast upon the madly-rushing rain; the water in the river is loud and impatient; women have hastened home early from the Ganges with their filled pitchers.

The evening lamps must be made ready.

O child,do not go out!

The road to the market is desolate,the lane to the river is slippery.The wind is roaring and struggling among the bamboo branches like a wild beast tangled in a net.