Kalidasa's more ambitious works, it is
perhaps legitimate to imagine him, as he wrote this canto, suddenly
inspired with the plan of _The Cloud-Messenger_.

This plan is slight and fanciful. A demigod, in consequence of some
transgression against his master, the god of wealth, is condemned to
leave his home in the Himalayas, and spend a year of exile on a peak
in the Vindhya Mountains, which divide the Deccan from the Ganges
basin. He wishes to comfort and encourage his wife, but has no
messenger to send her. In his despair, he begs a passing cloud to
carry his words. He finds it necessary to describe the long journey
which the cloud must take, and, as the two termini are skilfully
chosen, the journey involves a visit to many of the spots famous in
Indian story. The description of these spots fills the first half of
the poem. The second half is filled with a more minute description of
the heavenly city, of the home and bride of the demigod, and with the
message proper. The proportions of the poem may appear unfortunate to
the Western reader, in whom the proper names of the first half will
wake scanty associations. Indeed, it is no longer possible to identify
all the places mentioned, though the general route followed by the
cloud can be easily traced. The peak from which he starts is probably
one near the modern Nagpore. From this peak he flies a little west of
north to the Nerbudda River, and the city of Ujjain; thence pretty
straight north to the upper Ganges and the Himalaya. The geography of
the magic city of Alaka is quite mythical.

_The Cloud-Messenger_ contains one hundred and fifteen four-line
stanzas, in a majestic metre called the "slow-stepper." The English
stanza which has been chosen for the translation gives perhaps as fair
a representation of the original movement as may be, where direct
imitation is out of the question. Though the stanza of the translation
has five lines to four for the slow-stepper, it contains fewer
syllables; a constant check on the temptation to padding.

The analysis which accompanies the poem, and which is inserted in
Italics at the beginning of each stanza, has more than one object. It
saves footnotes; it is intended as a real help to comprehension; and
it is an eminently Hindu device. Indeed, it was my first intention to
translate literally portions of Mallinatha's famous commentary; and
though this did not prove everywhere feasible, there is nothing in the
analysis except ma