The hero asks his driver to drive fast
his chariot to reach home.
The cool pleasant wind blows passing
the water standing white in color. The wind makes the flowers in Pida-tree. Girls
are carrying water their teeth in smile, as those flowers in bloom. As the
girls carrying water, peacocks are dancing in the forest.
You, my driver, drive fast the chariot
to reach home before dark. Use your leather whip properly to drive the horses. She,
my lover is pondering me in distress. I like to see her face in smile. Please help.
 |
| Chariot |
A poem by: Mallanar son of Alakkar
Gnalalar of Madurai
The text is belongs to second century
B.C. or earlier.
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