Mother of the eloped girl ponders: salt-farmers
carry their salt-bags on donkeys. They precede fallowing bird’s indications. Donkeys
leave their foot-prints on route that makes notches on ground. I am worrying
how my daughter steps her tender feet on the rough track. Elephants lay their
hands in stagnated water pits spoiling the water and drink. There will be only
little water that cannot fetch in pot vessel. The man who takes my daughter in
an illegal way will dig the pit more and gets some water. My daughter would
have drinking the water. Here, I will feed her milk mixed with honey. I will
solicit her to drink touching my hands on her head. Even then she will refuse
to drink. Such a girl, how shall drink the muddy water, I wonder.
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| salt-farm |
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| salt-farm |
A poem by: SendamPudanar, a writer in Madurai
The text is belongs to second century
B.C. or earlier.
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