A Voice Behind The Scenes Monologue from Sakoontala; Or, The Lost Ring: An Indian Drama

From Sakoontala; Or, The Lost Ring: An Indian Drama by Kālidāsa

any · dramatic · 1:15 min

O hermits, be ready to protect the animals belonging to our hermitage. King Dushyanta, amusing himself with hunting, is near at hand. Lo! by the feet of prancing horses raised, Thick clouds of moving dust, like glittering swarms Of locusts, in the glow of eventide, Fall on the branches of our sacred trees Where hang the dripping vests of woven bark, Bleached by the waters of the cleansing fountain. And see! Scared by the royal chariot in its course, With headlong haste an elephant invades The hallowed precincts of our sacred grove; Himself the terror of the startled deer, And an embodied hindrance to our rites. The hedge of creepers clinging to his feet, Feeble obstruction to his mad career, Is dragged behind him in a tangled chain; And with terrific shock one tusk he drives Into the riven body of a tree, Sweeping before him all impediments.

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