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| carrying paddy bundles |
She is
at home waiting for his arrival. He is in war-camp thinking about her. He says.
Rainbow
is bending on the hill. The clouds fetch water from the waves on sea, thunder
like war-band and rain elegantly in all directions. The earth smiles with beauty.
This is rainy-season.
Pig with
its fire-like eyes is lying in the mud. Jasmine flowers shed covering the pig’s
back. That is the land in which the small village is clamoring. My lover is there
waiting for me.
I am
here in war-camp. The enemies have surrender themselves paying tribute to my
king. But my king didn’t accept. He is aiming at destroying them at their root.
What shall I do?
Farmers harvest paddy without
killing plants of flowers growing along with it. They make bundles of paddy
with hay; gather in upper-yard to separate them. They drink in joy. That is the
fort of enemy surrounded by such corn-yards.
A
poem by: Eluttalan (writer, by meaning) of Madurai village
The text is belongs to second century
B.C. or earlier.

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