Classic Poem

Akananuru 318

Forest animals walk there
and elephants roam.
In the sky's high places
thunder rumbles.
But you come alone
in the night
along the narrow paths
of snakes and tigers,

O man of the mountain country,

that country of fruitful hills,
ancient conquests,
and wide spaces,
where the music of waterfalls
mingles with bee sounds
as drums with lute-strings.

If you wish to marry me, you can.
But one thing: do not come
along those narrow paths;

though, if you must, please,
when you leave here
and reach your village in the hills,
think of us
living in anxiety here,
and get that long horn you use
to signal your hounds
and hunters
straying in the bamboo jungle,

and blow on it
a little.