Waves are incessantly flashing in the
sea. North wind in chill with pollen is dashing upon me. I am in the street of an
ancient village. Male owl is trumpeting in the village yard sitting in
Kural-tree. Damsels are moving.
She, my lover is killing my mind with
her alluring beauty as an art of a statue, with bamboo like shoulder, innocent
in her character, small in structure and tender in her breast. I am feeling as I
am hugging her breast. It is midnight; even the fishes are also sleeping. But, I
am in sleepless. What will be the end?
The man in
love speaks these words.
This is a poem of second century B.C.


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