Shed lavishly upon the homes of earth;

The soft Malaya (A fabulous Sandal-wood mountain in the South. Hence, Malaya breeze means a fragrant breeze from the South.) breeze, whose magic touch

Opens to view distant memory's folds;

Murmuring rivers and brooks, rippling lakes

With restless Bhramaras (A beetle somewhat like a humble-bee, which lives solely on honey. ) wheeling over

Gently waving lotuses unnumbered;

Foaming flow cascades - a streaming music -

To which echo mountain caves in return;

Warblers, full of sweet-flowing melody,

Hidden in leaves, pour hearts out - love discourse;

The rising orb of day, the painter divine,

With his golden brush but lightly touches

The canvas earth and a wealth of colours

Floods at once o'er the bosom of nature,

- Truly a museum of lovely hues -

Waking up a whole sea of sentiments.

The roll of thunder, the crashing of clouds,

War of elements spreading earth and sky;

Darkness vomiting forth blinding darkness,

The Pralaya (The time of cosmic destruction) wind angrily roaring; In quick bursts of dazzling splendour flashes

Blood-red terrific lightning, dealing death;

Monster waves roaring like thunder, foaming,

Rush impetuous to leap mountain peaks;

The earth booms furious, reels and totters,

Sinks down to its ruin, hurled from its place; Piercing the ground, stream forth tremendous flames. Mighty ranges blow up into atoms.

A lovely villa, on a lake of blue -

Festooned with dusters of water-lilies;

The heart-blood of ripe grapes capped with white foam

Whispering softly tells tale of passion;

The melody of the harp floods the ears,

And by its air, time, and harmony rich,

Enhances desire in the breast of man;

What stirring of emotions! How many