The pipal tree grieves
By shedding its leaves;
The buffalo mourns
By casting her horns;
The stream, weeping fast,
Grows briny at last;
The cuckoo with sigha
Blinds one of its eyes;
Bhagtu's grief so intense is,
He loses his senses;
The maidservant wailing
Has taken to railing;
The queen, joy enhancing,
Takes refuge in danger!'
'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, the King came, in, and asked what was the matter.
'This is the matter!' cried the Prince, drumming away with all his might {{block center|<poem>'The ugly hen painted By jealousy tainted, The pretty hen dyed. Lamenting his bride. The cock, bald and bare, Sobs loud in despair; By shedding its leaves; The buffalo mourns By casting her horns; The stream, weeping fast, Growa briny at last;
