Chapter 3 3

Mother, the One in the Clouds called to me—"We play from waking hours till the end of the day. "We play with the golden dawn, we play with the silvery moon." I asked, "But how can I go to you?" They replied, "Come to the edge of the earth, raise your hand to the sky, and you will be taken up into the clouds." "My mother is waiting for me at home," I said, "how can I come without her?" So they smiled and floated away. But I know a better game than this, Mom. I will be the cloud and you will be the moon. I cover you with two hands, our roof is the blue sky.

The man who lives on the waves called to me--"We sang from morning to night; on and on we traveled, and we knew not where we passed." I asked, "But how can I join your team?" They told me, "Come to the shore, stand there, close your eyes, and you will be carried up to the waves." I said, "My mother often wants me at home in the evenings—how can I leave her!" So they smiled and danced and ran past. But I know of a better game than this one. I am the wave, you are the strange shore. I rush in, in, in, laughing and crashing into your lap. No one in the world will know where the two of us are.

Reading the Text budded shadow Supposing I became a champa flower, just for fun, and grew on a branch high up that tree, court and shook in the wind with laughter fling and danced upon the newly budded leaves, cowshed would you know me, mother? If you yelled, "Son, where are you?" I would secretly laugh there, but didn't make a sound. I will quietly open the petals and watch you work. When after your bath, with wet hair spread on your shoulders, you walked through the shadow of the champa tree to the little court where you say your prayers, you would notice the scent of the flower, but not know that it came from me .

When after lunch you sat at the window reading Ramayana, and the tree's shadow fell over your hair and your lap, I should cast my wee little shadow on to the pages of your book, is being cast where you are reading. But would you guess that it was the tiny shadow of your little child? When in the evening you went to the cowshed with the lighted lamp in your hand, I should suddenly drop on to the earth again and be your own baby once more, and beg you to tell me a story. "Where have you been, you bad boy?" "I won't tell you, mother." That's what you and I were going to say then. ①Golden flower, formerly known as champa, also known as Champak, scientific name MichcliaChampaca, Indian sacred tree, magnolia plant, with golden yellow broken flowers.The translated name is also known as "Zhanbojia" or "Zhanbojia".

② "Ramayana" is an Indian narrative poem, which is said to have been written by Valmiki.The form of the present version was formed around the second century AD.The book is divided into seven volumes, with a total of 24,000 verses, all of which describe the life of Rama. Rama is Rama Gandhara.The son of the king of ten chariots, the husband of Sita.He entered the world in the second life (Tretayaga) as the seventh incarnation of Lord Vishnu.The Indians regard him as a hero, and some worship him as a god. If people knew where my king's palace was, it would vanish into thin air.

The walls are white silver, and the roof is dazzling gold. The queen lived in a palace with seven courts; she wore a string of jewels worth all the wealth of seven whole kingdoms. But let me tell you in a whisper, mother, where is my king's palace. It's in the corner of our balcony, where the pots with the tulsi flowers stand. The princess lay asleep on the far side of the seven impassable oceans. No one in the world can find her except myself. She had bracelets on her arms, pearls in her ears; her hair fell to the floor. When I touch her with my wand, she wakes up, and when she smiles, jewels fall from her lips.

But let me whisper it in my ear, mother; she lives in the corner of our verandah, where the pots of tulsi are. When you want to bathe in the river, you go up to the balcony on the roof. I sat in a corner where the shadow of the wall met. I only let the kitten with me, because he knew where the barber in the story lived. But let me whisper in your ear where the barber in that story actually lives. Where he lived, it was in the corner of the balcony, where the pots of tulsi flowers stood. Mom, the light in the sky is gray; I don't know what time it is. I'm having a hard time playing, so I've come to you.It's Saturday, our day off.

Lay down your work, mother; sit by the window, and tell me where is the desert of Tepanta in fairy tales? The shadow of the rain covered the whole day. The fierce electric light clawed at the sky with its claws. When the dark clouds are rumbling and the sky is thundering, I always love to crawl on top of you with fear in my heart. When the rain is pouring on the bamboo leaves for hours and our windows are rattling with the wind, I love to sit in the house with you, mother, and listen to your fairy-tale tales of the Tepanta Desert . Where is it, mother, on the shores of what seas, at the foot of what mountains, in what king's land?

There are no boundary stones on the fields, and there are no roads for villagers to walk home at dusk, or for women to pick up dead branches in the woods and load them to the market.There were only patches of yellow grass in the sand, and only one tree where the pair of wise old birds made their nests, and that place was the Tepanta Desert. I can imagine, on such a cloudy day, how the king's young son rode alone on a gray horse, across the desert, to find the palace of giants imprisoned beyond the unknown ocean princess. When rain and mist were falling in the distant sky, and lightning flashed like a sudden spasm of pain, did he remember his unfortunate mother, abandoned by the king, sweeping the cowshed with tears in her eyes as he When riding through the fairy-tale desert of Tepanta?

Look, mother, it's almost dark before the day's over, and there aren't many travelers on the roads in the village over there. The shepherd boy had long since returned home from the pasture, and the people had all returned from the fields, and were sitting on straw mats under the eaves of their thatched huts, watching the dark clouds. Mom, I've got all my books on the shelf - don't tell me to do my homework now. When I grow up and I'm big like Dad, I'm going to learn what I have to learn. But today you have to tell me, Mom, where is the Tepanta Desert in the fairy tale?

Dark clouds gathered quickly over the dark edge of the forest. Come on, don't go out! A row of palm trees by the lake bumped their heads against the dark sky; crows with ragged feathers sat silently on the branches of tamarind, and the east bank of the river was being invaded by dark darkness. Our cattle are tied to the fence and bray loudly. Wait here, boy, while I lead the cows into the barn first. Many people crowd the fields where the pools are overflowing, catching the fish that escape from the overflowing pools, and the rain in streams flows through the narrow streets, like a laughing child running away from his mother, to annoy She does. Listen, someone is calling the boatman on the shallows. My child, the sky is getting dark, and the ferry boat at the ferry has stopped. The sky seemed to be running fast on the torrential rain; the water in the river was loud and violent; the women had been hurrying home from the banks of the Ganges with their jugs full of water. The lamps used at night must be ready. Don't go out, kid! The road to the market was deserted, and the path to the river was slippery.The wind roared and struggled in the bamboo forest, like a wild animal caught in a net. Every day I float my paper boats one by one in the running stream. I wrote my name and the name of the village where I live on the paper boats in big black letters. I hope people who live in different places will get this paper boat and know who I am. I load my little boats with shiuli flower from our garden, and hope that these blooms of the dawn will be carried safely to land in the night. I launch my paper boats and look up into the sky and see the little clouds setting thee white bulging sails. I don't know what playmate of mine in the sky sends them down the air to race with my boats!When night comes I bury my face in my arms and dream that my paper boats float on and on under the midnight stars. The fairy of sleep sat in the boat with a basket full of dreams. The boat of Mantehu, the boatman, is moored at the pier of Rakiganchi. The ship was uselessly laden with jute, and had been sitting there idly for a long time. If he would lend me his boat, I would fit it with a hundred oars, and hoist five or six or seven cloth sails. I would never drive it to a stupid market. I will sail through the seven seas and thirteen rivers in the fairy world. But, mother, don't you cry for me in a corner. I will not go to the forest like Ramakandra, and come back only after going there for fourteen years. I'll be the prince of the story and fill my boat with what I like. I will take my friend Axi and me as companions, and we will happily sail through the seven seas and thirteen rivers in the fairy world. I'll sail in the early morning light. At noon, while you are bathing in the pond, we shall be in the land of a strange king. We will pass the Tepuni Shoals, leaving the Tepanta Desert behind us. When we come back, it will be almost dark, and I will tell you what we saw. I will cross the seven seas and thirteen rivers in the fairy world. ① Rama Gandhara is Rama.He is the main character in the Indian epic poem Ramayana.In order to respect his father's promise and maintain brotherhood, he abandoned his right to inherit the throne and was exiled in the forest with his wife Sita for fourteen years.