Classic Poem

When he had only a little toddy, he would give it to us. But now no longer!
When he had ample toddy he would give it to us
and then happily drink what was left to him as we sang. But now no longer!
When he had a little rice, he would set it on many dishes. But now no longer!
When he had heaps of rice, he would put it out on many dishes. But now no longer!
Wherever he came upon bones full of meat, he gave them away. But now no longer!
Wherever arrows and spears crossed the battlefield, there he stood. But now no longer!
With his hands that were fragrant with orange scent,
he stroked my hair with its stench of meat. But now no longer!
Piercing holes through the wide bowls of great, towering bards,
through the hands of those who came to him in need and through
the tongues of poets with their elaborate skill at shaping words,
dimming the pupils in the leaden eyes of all their dependents,
the spear ran that flew
through his chest and only then
it fell to earth! Where now is that lord who has been our support?
Now there are no singers any more! Now there are none who are generous to singers!
Like the giant pakanrai flower that flows with nectar and grows
in a cool watery place but is never worn by anyone,
many lives pass away without ever having given a single thing to other men!