It looked as though some fat vicious spirit
Was abroad again; in the stormy dark
False-hearted lanes quaked, and the wild goddess
Roused ghosts of the past. … A fond good
Was there to forewarn the woman. She felt
Some evil slithering towards her hut
And her Ramu crying aloud. But then
A tigress rushed into a mother’s limbs
And the Odhaņā in spate applauded
The love that crosses dangerous currents.
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