'In the kadamba grove what man is (that) standing?
What sort of word coming is this:
the plough of whose meaning has penetrated startlingly the path of hearing?
With a hint of union, with its manner of penetrating
making one well-nigh mad:
My mind is agitated,
it cannot be still,
streams flow from my eyes:

I know not what manner of man
it is who utters such words:
I see him not, my heart is perturbed,
I cannot stay in the house:
My soul rests not,
it flutters to and fro in hope of seeing him:
When she sees him,
she will find her soul, quoth Urdbab Dâs.'