She elopes with him. He praises her on
the way saying these words.
You are treading with your tender feet
making music by your anklets on legs. Withered Patiri-flowers smell in the
hot-sun.
I like to braid your hair in spreading;
to put some Maram-flowers in decoration; and drive away the bees rounding the
flowers. Please let me do. If I did so you can walk moving your shoulder freely
making bangle-music in your hand.
There will robbers on rout. Elephants flaw
‘Ya’-tree; eat inner part; and leave the gust-part. Salt-sellers passing-by
will use the dust part of the tree as fuel to cook.
We have to meet some dreadful scene I midnight.
The bear will search food in ant-hill frightening the snake hide in it.
(Don’t worry; it will not attack the
human unless disturb it.) Let us proceed.
 |
| He wants to braid her |
A poem by: Tamotaranar, a doctor in
Uraiur village
The text is belongs to second century
B.C. or earlier.
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