Author A. K. Ramanujan Kuruntokai 1 Red is the battlefield as he crushes the demons, red his arrow shafts, red the tusks of his elephants: this is the hill of the Red One with the whirling anklets, the hill of red glory lilies , flowers of blood. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments