Rain falls to remove drought. Bees singing
in flowers as girls together chattering open the buds of Pidavam in the
evening. Dashing clouds makes thunder. They are not favoring me gently because;
my lover is not with me to hug. Thunder makes me shiver as it makes fall the
rising cobra. He assured me ‘I shall return before rainy season; but did not. The
lady speaks these words to her friend-maid blaming the clouds.
Poet: Kantarattanar
This is a poem of second century B.C.
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