It is midnight raining with thunders. The
shepherd is standing alone guarding his cattle. A small fire-lamp, milk-pot,
pot-hook made in rope, leather-umbrella covering his back-side, wetting body by
snow lash on other-side and a stilt are his wealth for his life-hood. He makes a
whistle in his mouth putting his folding index finger in his lips. On hearing
the sound the foxes come to steal young sheep flow away through the thorn bush
in forest.
She, my lover lives in such a pastoral
land. She is a girl of chastity with clamoring beauty, the hero says.
 |
| fox killed lamb The poem says, the shepherd is guarding the lambs from foxes by his whistling sound |
A poem by: IdaiKadanar
The text is belongs to second century
B.C. or earlier.
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