Still sat Umā though scorched by various flame
Of solar fire and fires of kindled birth,
Until at summer’s end the waters came.
Steam rose from her body as it rose from earth.
With momentary pause the first drops rest
Upon her lash then strike her nether lip,
Fracture upon the highland of her breast,
Across the ladder of her waist then trip
And slowly at her navel come to rest.
5.23–24, trans. D. Ingalls
Update: I’ve written reviews of two superb translations of Kālidāsa’s work, The Origin of the Young God: Kalidasa’s Kumarasambhava by Hank Heifetz, and Chandra Rajan’s The Loom of Time, which includes a wonderful translation of his masterpiece “The Recognition of Shakuntala.” Barbara Stoller Miller’s Theater of Memory also includes a translation of that play, and translations of his other dramatic work as well. All three are terrific.