Classic Poem

Worthy bard who rouses longing in us through your small yal
with its strings like twisted gold drawn out into wires
and its body that gleams like lightning and its voice that hums
like bees! The small-bladed spear of the king of the village
has pierced the towering face of the elephant the enemy king
is riding and that king's spear launched in anger has torn the chest
smeared with sandalwood of my lord! But when our great hero
plucked out the shining weapon that had ripped his chest open
and brandished it and threw it back, the elephants of his enemies
all showed their backs and went running away
and their innocent mates, whose heads are tender, were ashamed of them!