She worries
sharing her feeling with her friend-maid.
You, my friend! Look at me; my bangles
are losing down; my fertile shoulders are leaning; and I am helpless here. He,
my husband forced me to be here and went away. It is the mountain where bamboos
are dry and sparks their paddies on the ground as the hunters shoot their
arrows from their bows. The air is dry. Some waterfalls are in live. By the
side of it, there appears ‘Murukkam’ tree with its red flowers as that of the
lamps lighting in ‘Kartigai’ festival. In such a route he will be treading. I am
here in anguish. What shall I do?
 |
| Murukkam flower |
 |
| Kartigai festival |
A
poem by: PerunKadunKo, versatile in poem on arid land
The text is belongs to second century
B.C. or earlier.
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