The Madness of Manini 1



Dear one, your touch has set me a-weeping,

And the tears stream down.

With these very tears did I nurture a little plant,

And the little plant grew and flowered.

Lovingly I held these flowers at my breast;

And alas! one day I crushed them:

Crushed them through my pride.

Sadly I plucked them–these withered faded ones, the ones

that I had crushed.

And gazed at the ruin.


Lo! I beheld the fires I myself had lit

Into which I had consigned my offering.

The ashes I smeared on me in despair

And went a-crying out into the

World: I was mine own enemy’.

Translated from MARATHI by

R. L. RAU.



1 Manini, in a fit, sends her lover away. She is proud and sensitive and does not want to call him back again to her. And then come regrets, longings and the inevitable madness.