English · E. B. Cowell (ed.), R. Chalmers, W. H. D. Rouse, H. T. Francis, R. A. NeilOn hearing this Alambusa& repeated two stanzas: I will not fail, O angel-king, to go at thy behest, But still with fear this sage austere I venture to molest. For many a one, poor fool, has gone (I shudder at the thought) In hell to rue the suffering due to wrongs on saints he wrought. This said, Alambusa, fair nymph, departed with all speed, Famed Isisiiga to entice to some unholy deed. Into the grove for half a league with berries red so bright, The grove where Isisinga dwelt, she vanished out of sight. At break of day, ere yet the sun was scarce astir on high, To Isisinga, sweeping out his cell, the nymph drew nigh. These stanzas owed their inspiration to Perfect Wisdom. Then the ascetic questioned her and said: Who art thou, like to lightning flash, or bright as morning star, With ears and hands bedecked with gems that sparkle from afar? Fragrant as golden sandal-wood, in brightness like the sun, A slim and winsome maid art thou, right fair to look upon. So soft and pure, with slender waist and firmly springing gait, Thy movements are so full of grace, my heart they captivate. Thy thighs, like trunk of elephant, are finely tapering found, Thy buttocks soft to touch and like to any dice-board round. With down like lotus filaments thy navel marked, I ween, As though with black collyrium’twere charged, from far is seen. Twin milky breasts, like pumpkins halved, their swelling globes display, Firm set, although without a stalk all unsupported they. Thy lips are red as is thy tongue, and, O auspicious sign, Thy neck long as the antelope’s is marked with triple line. Thy teeth brushed with a piece of wood, kept ever clean and bright, Gleam in thy top and lower jaw with flash of purest white. Thy eyes are long and large of shape, a lovely sight to view, Like guij berries black, marked out with lines of reddish hue. Thy tresses smooth, not over long and bound in neatest coil, Are tipped with gold and perfumed with the finest sandal oil. Of all that live by merchandise, by herds or by the plough, Of all the mighty saints that live true to ascetic vow—Amongst them all in this wide world thy peer I may not see, Then what thy name and who thy sire, we fain would learn from thee. While the ascetic thus sang the praises of Alambusa, from her feet to the hair of her head, she remained silent, and from his long drawn out speech observing how disturbed was his state of mind she repeated this stanza: Heaven bless thee, Kassapa, my friend, the time is past and gone For idle questions such as these—for are we not alone?—Come let us in thy hermitage embracing haste to prove The thousand joys well known to all the votaries of love. So saying Alambusa thought, “If I stand still, he will not come within reach of me; I will make as if I were running away,” and with all the cunning of a woman’s wiles she shook the purpose of the ascetic, as she fled in the direction from which she had approached him. The Master, to make the matter clear, spoke this stanza: