Classic Poem

In the towering house we will set out margosa flowers and branches
of the ironwood tree with its sweet fruit. We will play the curving
yal and many other instruments. Moving your hand gently,
spread mai paste, and scatter the white mustard seed around
the house. Playing a flute of bamboo, singing a Kanci song
of the passing of things, striking sweet-sounding bells,
lighting fragrant incense everywhere, come my good friend,
we will guard the wounds of that noble man,
his anklets incised with flowers, who drove off the threat to the king!