Waiting for the food of my heart.
Long has the small appetite of my badjing been sated;
Long has he returned to his little nest;
But still my soul
And my heart are very sad. . . Adinda!”
Still there was nobody on the path leading from Badoer to the Ketapan. . . .
Saïdjah caught sight of a butterfly which seemed to enjoy itself in the increasing warmth. . . .
“See how the butterfly flutters everywhere:
His wings glisten like s flower of many colours;
His heart is in love with the blossoms of the kenari,[1]
Certainly he looks for his fragrant sweetheart.
Much joy, my butterfly,—I give you hail!
You will surely find what you seek;
But I am sitting alone near the Djati-wood,
Waiting for what my heart loves:
Long since has the butterfly kissed
The kenari blossom which it loves so well;
But still my soul
And my heart are very sad. . . . Adinda!”
And still there was no one on the path leading from Badoer to the Ketapan.
The sun began to rise high,-there was warmth in the air.
“See how the sun glitters on high,
High above the waringi[2]—hill!
He feels too warm and wishes to descend,
To sleep in the sea as in the arms of a spouse.
