Mother watches my maturity change in
my body, the heroine says to her friend-maid.
He is the Man of the mountain where the
leaf of red-plantain fondles the back of the elephant
We played in the falls-pond along with
him; gather water lilies; and enjoyed fragrant mountain-park with
Vengai-flowers.
Now onward, it seems impossible.
My father and brother cultivate
yellow-millet in mountain farms. It grows as sugar-cane plant; and is yielding ready
to steal by parrots. I expect that my mother will send us to guard the yield. But
she looks at me in different curiosity; my emerging breast and fertile hair on
my head again and again. I think, she thinks that I will lose my chastity.
What shall I do?
 |
| Falls-pond |
A poem by: IlaVetanar, a cloth
merchant in Madurai
The text is belongs to second century
B.C. or earlier.
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