Skip to main content
Purananuru 127

Since those bards,

with their sweet songs
and small lutes
black-stemmed as whortleberries,

sang here and left,

the tall elephant-posts stand bare
without elephants.
Only wild peacocks
stay there with their kind.

They say,
the women here are left
only with wedding-chains
they can't give away,
and Ay's palace
is dim.

Yet
the houses of kings
with drums and riches,
fine foods spiced and sauteed
to fill only their own bellies,

they are unspeakable,
they are not a patch
on Ay's
empty palace.
Rate this poem
No votes yet
Reviews
No reviews yet.