DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.638#0236
158 INDIAN MYTH AND LEGEND
which delighted his heart, for it was deep and shady, and
was cooled by soft winds; sweet-throated birds sang in
the branches, and all round about there were blossoming
trees and blushing flowers; he heard the soft notes of the
kokila1, and beheld many a green bower carpeted with
grass and canopied by many-coloured creepers.
Dushyanta, abandoning the chase, wandered on until
he came to a delightful and secluded hermitage, where '
he saw the sacred fire of that austere and high-souled
Brahman, the saintly Kanva. It was a scene of peace
and beauty. Blossoms from the trees covered the ground;
tall were the trunks, and the branches were far-sweep-
ing. A silvery stream went past, breaking on the banks
in milk-white foam; it was the sacred River Malini,
studded with green islands, loved by water fowl, and
abounding with fish.
Then the king was taken with desire to visit the holy
sage, Kanva, he who is without darkness. So he divested
himself of his royal insignia and entered the sacred grove
alone. - Bees were humming; birds trilled their many
melodies; he heard the low chanting voices of Brahmans
among the trees—those holy men who can take captive
all human hearts. . . .
When he reached the abode of Kanva, he wondered
to find that it was empty, and called out: "Who is
here?" and the forest echoed his voice.
Then came towards him a beautiful black-eyed virgin,
clad in a robe of bark. She reverenced the king and
said: "What seekest thou? I am thy servant."
Said the royal Dushyanta to the maiden of faultless
form and gentle voice: "I have come to honour the wise
and blessed Kanva. Tell me, O fair and amiable one,
whither he hath gone?"
1 The Indian cuckoo.
which delighted his heart, for it was deep and shady, and
was cooled by soft winds; sweet-throated birds sang in
the branches, and all round about there were blossoming
trees and blushing flowers; he heard the soft notes of the
kokila1, and beheld many a green bower carpeted with
grass and canopied by many-coloured creepers.
Dushyanta, abandoning the chase, wandered on until
he came to a delightful and secluded hermitage, where '
he saw the sacred fire of that austere and high-souled
Brahman, the saintly Kanva. It was a scene of peace
and beauty. Blossoms from the trees covered the ground;
tall were the trunks, and the branches were far-sweep-
ing. A silvery stream went past, breaking on the banks
in milk-white foam; it was the sacred River Malini,
studded with green islands, loved by water fowl, and
abounding with fish.
Then the king was taken with desire to visit the holy
sage, Kanva, he who is without darkness. So he divested
himself of his royal insignia and entered the sacred grove
alone. - Bees were humming; birds trilled their many
melodies; he heard the low chanting voices of Brahmans
among the trees—those holy men who can take captive
all human hearts. . . .
When he reached the abode of Kanva, he wondered
to find that it was empty, and called out: "Who is
here?" and the forest echoed his voice.
Then came towards him a beautiful black-eyed virgin,
clad in a robe of bark. She reverenced the king and
said: "What seekest thou? I am thy servant."
Said the royal Dushyanta to the maiden of faultless
form and gentle voice: "I have come to honour the wise
and blessed Kanva. Tell me, O fair and amiable one,
whither he hath gone?"
1 The Indian cuckoo.