Classic Poem

So that we may, again and again, drink down
great jars of toddy after eating succulent chunks of meat
layered with fat that calms raging fire and looks like the cotton
women spin, for that I have come to see you, my lord!
And may the toddy you yourself then swallow
with such gusto in your happy home, like a strong ox
eating its hay after plowing, O powerful hero who overcomes
the power of your enemies! may that toddy be the finest amrta!
The victor who slew and who triumphed as the elephants
fell dead like so many mountains praises you
when he says, “He gave us victory!” and the defeated—
as he thinks that had it not been for Malaiyan with his strong spear
who came swiftly onto the field, his handsome legs glowing
with the anklets of war and turned the fighting around,
O how easy it would have been for them to win the battle!—
he praises you as well when he says, “It was he
who made us lose!” and so, O greatness!
like holy Murugan on whose high mountain
the great rain clouds make their home,
for whoever has any stake in you, you are always one and the same!