Read the passage from the poem Meghaduta. Āshādha's ending on the mountain found him weakened, gold ring slipping from his wrist. And mixed his pleasure as a cloud came down so playfully to hug the summit mist. . . .With now the rainy month stood close at hand, to fresh Kutaja blooms he adds his plea, and asks most courteously the cloud bring news of welfare to his loved-one—words that she, revived to hear of him, will understand.–Meghaduta, Kalidasa (translated by Colin John Holcombe)