The friend-maid
of the heroine consoles her lady as she is suffering as the lady in her separation
of her lover. This is a kind of words of impression.
After sending the day-time, evening
starts. Flies change their honey-flowers from blooming in water to blooming in
trees, as there is no honey in water-flowers after eating. They are doing this
as the man of greedy changes their patron from poor-made to rich. Deer family
watches the evening shy in flaming red as the gold melting in furnace. Clouds of
dry are moving in the shy. As a man throwing his spear in the chest of a man
whose old wound is in a healing stage. My expectations are dimming as steam
covers the mirror. You, my friend, see, the soul in our body is scattering as a
bird in storm. What shall we do?
 |
| a bird in storm |
A
poem by: Anti IlanKiranar
The text is belongs to second century
B.C. or earlier.
No comments:
Post a Comment