Classic Poem

I was beating my drum that had
the look of the moon grown full
after fifteen days, set in the midst
of the dark sea. And I proclaimed
his majesty, appearing at dawn
at his door. Though many were asleep,
he was not sleeping, but my lord
of lofty principles, he who is the protector of the world
heard the voice of my clear-toned kinai drum and so,
with undiminished desire he stripped me of the old,
torn clothes that encircled my waist … and fine, precious stones
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . looking
at my waist, he gave me a garment of the highest quality!
And I was filled with joy as I drank liquor that had been
strained through fiber and I don't even
know how much time I passed in that village! Not only can he
drive away his enemies but he can also drive away that enemy,
hunger! from those who come to him. Full of warriors,
. . . . . that wealthy country sweet to live in, with prosperous
cities where the river running with clear water is maintained
at every harbor so that oceangoing ships may come up through
the dark tidal channels and dock, where
sacrificial posts are attended by learned Brahmins—the land he rules!