He said:
If you took the whole of this world
girt by the great ocean's rolling waves
and the next world in all its glory
which few can ever reach,
and weighed them together,
they could not compare
with the hours I lay
detained in the arms
of that little girl
with golden skin
kohl-dark eyes like lotus blossoms
and beautiful thighs
freckled with beauty spots.
(101)
She said:
If I think of him, my heart burns
(102)
She said:
Standing on chilly forlorn mudbanks
(103)
She said:
Listen, my friend, even now
(104)
She said:
This love of my man -
(105)
Her unfaithful husband sends a messenger who assures her of his fidelity. Her good breeding prevents her from exposing this message as the lie that it is. She said:
We are blessed my friend
(106)
She said:
Cockerel,
(107)
Her lover has not returned. Unlike her lover, the jasmine flowers have dutifully put forth their flowers. But he has not come. She said:
As the dark clouds play
(108)
She speaks so that she will be overheard by the lover. This clandestine relationship is doing her no good. Her friend said:
Surprising isn't it?
(109)
She said:
Whether he comes, my friend
(110)
She speaks overheard by the lover. Not understanding that her daughter’s distress is caused by love, her mother is planning a ritual to exorcise the evil spirit. Her friend said:
The priest is saying
(111)
In desperation because her lover has not come to claim her in marriage , she tells her friend how she feels – unable either to go loving him or to give him up. She said:
If I live in fear of gossip mongers
(112)
Her friend said:
Near the village there’s a pool
(113)
The heroine’s friend speaks to the lover as if talking about her doll, in order to let him know that she has brought the heroine to the appointed meeting place. To avoid any scandal, she impresses upon him that he should go and meet with her and send her back before dark.Her friend said:
Sir, with your fine chariot,
(114)
Her friend said:
Who does not honour those
(115)
He said:
My love has made for her
(116)
Her friend seeks to overcome the lover’s reluctance to marry and speaks knowing that he is listening in secret. If you see him, she says, people will find out and blame you, and if you don’t they will still blame you when they see how thin your arms have become through pining for him. But at least, in the second case, we can hide your pitiful condition by buying some smaller bangles for your arms. Her friend said to her:
If he doesn’t come, then so be it,
(117)
She said:
As loveless eventide
(118)
He said:
Just as the young offspring
yet not to think of him, is quite impossible.
Meanwhile the pain of love grows
until it seem to fill the very heavens.
He has no wisdom or compassion
this man whom I took as my lover.
piled up by the swollen current
red-billed herons
their downy feathers
as soft as the petals of coral tree blossoms,
gaze intently, seeking their prey
enduring the bitter north wind
that lashes them with its icy droplets.
But still, it seems, my lover has not come,
and as for me, it seems
that I can endure this life no longer
on this cold dewy winter morning
with icy droplets of rain flying about
like pearls scattering from a broken necklace
as the cattle graze
on the bindweed's cold creepers
in the early morning,
he remains away still
and the days of our separation
have become many indeed.
from the Goddess Cur's mountain land
where a peacock
in a hill farmer's golden field of small-eared millet
unwittingly feeding on the rich ears
left as a food offering to the deity
quivers in a moment of fright
looking beautiful
like a dancing girl acting out a ritual trance -
has dwindled
until it is now just a memory
stained with tears.
with a message
from one whose heart is free of all taint,
from my lover who lives in the land
where the Irri tree, festooned
with hanging vines
spreads its silvery roots over the rocks
so that they look like
streams running down the hillside.
Let us then respond swiftly
as a fire when ghee is thrown upon it
saying that I too remain just as I was
when he first married me.
guarding your flock
with your red spiky comb
which reminds me of the conical clusters
of the kantal's bright scarlet blossoms!
I wish you a bitter fate -
may you become a choice morsel
for the cub of a wild cat
stalking house rats
in the deep blackness of midnight,
for waking me from sweet sleep's bliss
in the arms of a lover newly arrived
and long awaited.
above this little village in the hills
and the milch cows come
to seek out their calves,
in the woodlands
white flowers of green-leaved jasmine
blameless,
mirror the beauty of the ruddy evening sky.
And I, my friend, feel
that I can endure no longer.
that even whenhe stay here
to make love to you -
your lover from the seashore
where the ocean's dying waves cast up
whole shoals of shrimp
with curled bodies and legs like thorns,
it does nothing to restore the beauty
of your fair brow.
or whether he doesn't,
what can we mean to each other now?
Already, the green buds of the blue lotus
sway in the water,
the flowers of the karuvilai
like vivid eyes on a peacocks tail
shake in the tall grass,
and the red buds of the eenkai
with its fine little thorns
have opened
and their clear bright blossoms
are being scattered
under the cruel buffeting
of the cold north wind.
Yet it doesn't even occur to him
to think of what is happening to me
that it is mighty Lord Murugan,
the victorious one,
who is troubling you so
making your soft shoulders
grow thin and hollow.
Even your mother believes it.
So now
your lover from the hill country
strewn with dark rounded boulders
which look like little black she-elephants
with their trunks hidden,
should hurry up and come here, my friend
to join the rest of the family
for a really good laugh.
my love will just ebb away
and if renounce it completely
to put and end to their slander
all I’ll have left is my modesty.
Don’t you see?
Like a branch bent down by an elephant
so that it splinters and hangs down
held on only by a few fibres,
my worth as woman has been taken
and used, my friend, by him.
and not too far from that pool
there's that little forest stream
running by a grove where,
apart from a few white herons
looking for prey,
nobody ever goes.
We’ll go there
to collect mud for our hair
and she, silly girl,
will come along quite innocently.
I’ve left my doll sleeping
on a couch of blue water lilies
and come here to you.
It's time we left
and you can send her on her way –
it’s getting dark
and herons with their bellies
full of eels
will be trampling all over
my little baby's forehead.
who do them great service?
But if my lady has ever served you
in however small a degree,
may you show her your mercy,
and end this lovers' quarrel
and let your desire shine out
ending this lovers' quarrel.
Lord of the mountains
where the light-footed elk
grazes on fresh leaves and sleeps
in glades of tall swaying bamboo!
She has no-one apart from you.
a dwelling-place in my heart.
Her tresses, besieged by honey-bees,
are like long ripples
in the fine dark sand
on the broad shores of Urantai
where the rich Chola Kings
make their dwelling place,
so sleek, fresh and so fragrant.
your lover from the shores
where the slippery crab
fearing the sharp eye of the stork
which resembles the pink folded bud
of the water lily in winter
scuttles in terror
l
ike a bull bursting free
f
rom its handlers’ ropes
into its burrow
amongst the roots of a mangrove tree.
The bangle-seller here
has small bangles too,
which we can buy for you.
steals in
and bird and beast
seek out their lonely lair,
gatekeepers close up
the much frequented gates,
crying:
'Anyone else to come in?',
but still, my friend
my beloved has not come.
of the small white snake
with its pretty stripes
can wound a wild elephant,
just so, this little girl
with bright newly-grown teeth
and arms laden with bangles
has wounded me.