I can
abide my wistful on your words that he will return soon. But the flute music of
the cowherd is kindling my love desire every evening. What shall I do? The lady
asked her friend-maid.
 |
| Red velvet mite / Mutai / Mudaai |
You
are saying; he won the war; the soldiers are now blessing him; there is rain;
red velvet mites are moving on the soil; honey-birds are opening the ‘Mullai’
flowers budding in the green creeper to fragrant. Male deer is following the
female. He has ordered his driver to be ready with chariot to return home. By these
words I can abide my longing of his arrival and trying to stop my tears. But one
thing; the flute music of the cowherd returning home with cattle is making me
suffer in love-sick every evening. What shall I do?
A
poem by: Kouniyan Putatanar of Madurai
The text is belongs to second century
B.C. or earlier.
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