Skip to main content
Purananuru 149

Bless you, bless you,
Nalli.

Now our minstrels
play morning pastorals
in the still drone of evening,

and in the morning
they play
on their lutes

evening's seaside songs:

all because you, in your bounty,
have taken on this business
of giving and caring,

our men
have forgotten
our traditions.
Rate this poem
No votes yet