There is no other joy than the success
of our thought. It happens after a sorrow in my life, the lady says to her
friend-maid.
He, my man went on earning. He assured
me pointing the time of his return. It comes.
Raining season passed.
The season that fog covers the sky at
daytime as smoke is also gone.
The petals of flowers in Murukkam-tree
seems like nails of smiling ladies falls down before bloom.
There are dots in my check as flowers
Vengai.
Flowers Kuravam are falling on the
ground as silver sticks, when honey mites sings in that flowers.
Dragon flies are humming in flowers
raising sound as Yal music.
It is spring, which animals like.
The song of cuckoo eating white flowers
in Mara-tree is appeals my ears.
Is it the season here only? Is it not
there where my man is? It is the season in which my man assured me he will
return.
While I am pondering in this way, he,
my lover presents before me.
Where is it gone; the love-sick with
color change in my forehead? It is the forehead that my mother fondles to
enjoy.
 |
| Kuravam flower குரவம் மலர் |
A poem by: VadamotanKilar
The text is belongs to second century
B.C. or earlier.
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