Being Keenly Looked-At By Farming-Folk-Eves,
Sans Sportive Movements Of Their Glistening Eyes,
With Happy Anticipation Glowing In Them,
For, All Fruits Of Successful Crop-Husbandry
Depend So Wholly On You: Shall Sure Be Adored
Ascend The Plateau Of Mala, Where Just Ploughed Fields
Shall Be Emitting Fragrance From Rain-Sprinkled Soil
Fly Little Westward From There; But Then Soon-After
Do Continue With Your Northward Flight, Faster