In William Dalrymple's "Nine Lives" (if you haven't read the book yet, please do so NOW!), I came across a Tamil poem translated by A.K. Ramanujan (The Interior Landscape: Love Poems from a Classical Tamil Anthology, Ontario, 1975). Here it is:
Her arms have the beauty
Of a gently moving bamboo.
Her eyes are full of peace.
She is faraway,
Her place not easy to reach.
My heart is frantic
With haste.
A ploughman with a single ox
On land all wet
And ready for seed.
After a little online trawling, this is what I found...
Ettuthokai (Eight Anthologies) dated anywhere between 600 AD to 1200 AD are a collection of poems dealing with both Akam (Private life) and Puram (Public life). The poems were composed by many poets and annotated into anthologies. Kurunthokai is the second book of the anthology and deals with Akam. It consists of 401 poems loosely woven together to form a story of love, separation and longing.
By the way, the "Interior Landscape" is not what you would think :-). In Classical Tamil poetry (especially in those dealing with love), description of the landscape was woven into poems to convey the many moods of the lovers. For example, mountains, water falls, winter months (the only pleasant season in Tamil Nadu even 2000 years back, I guess) and kurinji flowers form the backdrop for a lover's union. Forests, rivers, late summers and jasmine form the backdrop for the heroine patiently waiting for her lover to return from battle. When the lovers are separated and there is no hope of union, the landscape is seashore, salt water and water lily. When the hero goes on a dangerous mission from which he may never return, the background is parched desert, cactus and the dry summer season. Arguments between couples are depicted along with ponds (maybe because the water is stagnant), plains and valleys and (for some strange reason) mangoes and water buffaloes. Maybe the other party in the argument begins to look like a clumsy buffalo. And another interesting point, no season is assigned for arguments between couples. The poets must have noted that they happen irrespective of the time of the year. :-)
Here are a few of the other Kurunthokai poems I liked...
Poem# 132
She is always eager to embrace,
Her softly blossoming breasts and long tresses
kindle my desire.
How could I bring myself
to forget her?
The dusky maiden looks at me with shy longing.
Like a new born calf raising his trembling head
to search for his mother whose milk he seeks.
Poem# 101
The weight of this entire earth filled with great oceans and rolling waves
And the next world which few could hope to reach, put together,
Cannot compare with the delight I feel
When I lay in the arms of my girl with golden skin,
kohl-lined eyes like lotus blossoms
And slender thighs freckled with beauty spots.
Poem# 119
Just as the young offspring
of the small white snake
with its pretty stripes
can wound a wild elephant,
this petite girl
with bright milky teeth
and arms laden with bangles
has wounded me.
Poem# 54
He has gone - and I am alone -
my Lord of the hill country
where a wild elephant,
startled by the whistling of stones
from the slings of watchmen
in the millet fields,
releases a green bamboo stem
so that it springs back
like a fisherman's rod landing a catch.
And with him has gone
all that I am worth as a woman.
Poem# 62
Like an exquisite, skilfully wrought garland
of white kantal flowers
and bright green buds of jasmine, yet to unfold,
interspersed with fragrant petals of blue water lilies
is my sweet one's fragrant body,
more delicate than a mango tree's tender shoots
and more delightful yet to embrace.
Poem# 116
My love has made for her
a dwelling-place in my heart.
Her tresses, besieged by honey-bees,
are like long ripples
in the fine dark sand
on the broad shores of Urantai
where the rich Chola Kings
make their dwelling place,
so sleek, fresh and so fragrant.
Poem# 168
Her dusky body
is fresh and fragrant,
like a green basket –
woven from the tender young leaves
and filled with the plump rain-drenched buds,
which, in the early morning,
burst open and scatter
under the monsoon's heavy downpour.
Her shoulders, slender as bamboo,
glide like a boat on the water.
I can neither embrace them
nor be separated from them.
And were I to depart from here,
to live at all
would be equally impossible.
And the most famous Sembula Peyaneer (Red Earth and Rain):
Poem# 40
What could my mother be
to yours? What kin is my father
to yours anyway? And how
did you and I meet ever?
But in love our hearts are as red
earth and pouring rain:
mingled
beyond parting.
