I will not curse him at all even when I
happen to loss my old beauty so as to die when he is away leaving me alone;
because he gave me so much bliss in reserve. He is the Man of the littoral land
where fishermen used to go into the sea on boats with lamps in night that
twinkles as sun rays when it rises, to fish big fishes crossing the wave that
turns pulling crabs. The lady says to her friend-maid when her lover is away in
a distant place.
 |
| crab in sea |
Poet: TayanKannanar
This is a poem of second century B.C.
No comments:
Post a Comment