Tuesday, September 14,2004
A gentle breeze blew over Tenkasi
Through a narrow mountain pass
Sprinkling fine stone dust all over
Innumerable were the chisel strokes
Stone after stone cried out in pain
A phallus-God had to come from afar
From the distant banks of death
The love-God wielding a sugarcane bow
Invited certain, fierce death by fire
The horrified wife froze in stone
A heap of yellow dust reached the skies.
A strong gust of wind blew from the hills
Spreading a dusty film over their oiled bodies
The celebration continued late into the night
When bewitching Beauty would marry Death
The horse-borne King faltered at the bilwa tree
Stopped abruptly by the Queen’s purple flow
The bilwa leaves had become dark green
All was ripe for love and ripe for death.
The artist who had reached the beauty’s end
Hid himself behind Time’s dusty haze.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem