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| Fox |
It is pastoral land without rain. Even
the rising sun is very hot at the place. The entire world is sighing at the
time. In such a season he went away to earn wealth. A news come the he is
returning after his achievement. You are refusing to believe. It is sure he is
returning.
It was the route he had crossed: the
people in that aria kill the passersby and through the body in bush. Even the
hungry fox will not touch it. He gains victory in his venture by the route. The
friend-maid informs these words to her lady.
Poet: not known
Poem belongs to 2nd century
B.C.
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