Will my wife in home, hearing leopard sound
as an omen, be praying the leopard say good omen? The man in his venture of
earning thinks.
I am here where the natives offer the
Atiral-flowers to their God of Hero-stone. They offer the flowers blooms climbing
on Patukkai (hide-stone-wall) that was used by robbers to kill the passenger-by.
It is a dry-track where mirage-water only is available. Through the route I am passing
to earn.
There, my wife’s thought will be
rounding upon me. She is a girl having a tender heart to hug me by instinct
while I leave my hands apart from hugging her.
She will be counting the days of my
leaving, marking line per day; and counting each day touching each line after
adding on the wall near the gate; and feel sigh shedding tears on her breast.
She will be laying her body on the
mattress loaded with feathers and covered with pure cloth in the evening. When she
happens to hear the sound of a leopard, she will pray the sound-omen be
good-omen in her anxiety. It is her nature.
 |
| Atiral flower |
A poem by: IlanKiranar, son of
Eyinantai
The text is belongs to second century
B.C. or earlier.
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