Author A. K. Ramanujan Purananuru 232 Let day, let night, come no more. Let all my days come to nothing. We have put peacock feathers on his headstone and poured bark-wine in little bowls for him: will he accept them, who didn't accept a whole country of mountain peaks? Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments