Tuesday, March 24, 2015

A Sangam poem

Eating plenty of plantain
of the rich swaying leaves,
along with the sweet shelves
of jack-fruits, resisting further intake,
changing gulps of honey-like water,
coursed with rich bouts of wine,
the monkeys find it impossible,
to scale the sandal trees,
and just doze off
on the beds of heaps of fallen blossoms;
effortless pleasures are aplenty
for all the living beings of thine hills,
easily got with no strain;
then forsooth, aimed pleasure,
is it so difficult for thee?

Bounteous beauty
and bamboo-smooth shoulders
branching off and entwining
as it were the heart,
ever pressing forth to thwart;
all for the sake of thee, if then,
she is tightly in guard by daytime
and you venture the night not sir;
the seasons fade fast away
and the wretched moon lingers long
down in the town.

***
(Translation of one Sangam song, 'what is that?')

Srirangam V Mohanarangan

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