My mind goes with him, the lady says
to her friend-maid.
He, the man of littoral land gathers
flowers in lagoon along with us; rests in Littoral Park with us; plays making
sand-doll with us; he begs us when we humiliate him. He reveals his love desire.
He does not even try to know our difficulty. Then he returns back getting
nothing from us.
My mind chases him. It does not care
my prestige. It is bad. Will it catches him or not, I do not know. Suppose,
catching him, will it stands before him without revealing its love desire in
its usual modesty?
You, my friend, see his chariot moving
on the sand dune and wet-sand at the side of Talai-plant. It is moving on
Adumbu creeper. It appears as an Indian fishing boat moving on sea.
 |
| Love modesty |
A poem by: Ulochanar
The text is belongs to second century
B.C. or earlier.
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