Classic Poem

It was the hour before dawn when the cool dew collects and I had just
arranged my tangled hair glowing with gold, which had seemed like
the forehead of an antelope that grazes through the forest and then lingers
in the broad fields, and I was sitting in a courtyard by the huge trunk
of a jackfruit tree, beating out a rhythm on my dark kinai drum
with its clear eye, and beautifully then some large stags came
up close to hear me playing and singing of the hillsides
overgrown with the black branches of the kuriñci, when our king
gave away what he thought he should give to his guests: rich pieces
of meat from the porcupines, brought down by bows at the great water holes
by the husbands of women with eyes like deer who have borne children
with heads easily hurt and tigers' teeth necklaces, and he gave away
sandalwood from trees with branches ripened on the slopes of hills
where there are caves and crevices and he gave away the tusks
from elephants with spotted heads. He heaped up these three things
on the striped skin of a brightly colored tiger! O sun! You
should be as generous as Ay Antiran
who wears loose bracelets! You are of no use just shining in the sky!