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| Millet yield |
Her face
changes into puberty. It shines like moon without its stain. Wow! What will
happen to her? The friend-maid adds. Millet
yields. The leaf of the yield is like rainbow. The parrots and elephants are
ready to eat destroying. You, the Man of the hill! You are coming here to get
your lover’s bliss at midnight. It seems impossible, because the streets are bright
in light from the gems that the flood brought here. They are gems that cobra
spits. (A customary belief). The peoples
can see your secret dealings.
With
these words she hints him to meet her at millet field where she will be guarding.
A
poem by: Podumbil Kilan Vennaganar
The text is belongs to second century
B.C. or earlier.
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