Kanwa Monologue from Sakoontala; Or, The Lost Ring: An Indian Drama

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

male · melancholic · 1:03 min

Hear me, ye trees that surround our hermitage! (S') akoontalá ne'er moistened in the stream Her own parched lips, till she had fondly poured Its purest water on your thirsty roots; And oft, when she would fain have decked her hair With your thick-clustering blossoms, in her love She robbed you not e'en of a single flower. Her highest joy was ever to behold The early glory of your opening buds; Oh, then, dismiss her with a kind farewell. This very day she quits her father's home, To seek the palace of her wedded lord. (The note of a Koïl[66) is heard. Hark! heard'st thou not the answer of the trees, Our sylvan sisters, warbled in the note Of the melodious Koïl (66)? they dismiss Their dear (S') akoontalá with loving wishes.

Rehearse Kanwa's monologue

Run it out loud with a spotlight that follows your voice, line by line, until it's off the page. Free to start, no credit card.

Rehearse free Get started free