The Colas c12.55

c12.55

Minstrel, with little lute of sweetest strain !
Suppliant with words of ancient wisdom full !
Importunate thou askest me to rest and listen to the pleasant sounds of thy tambourine.
But hear what I shall say !
The modest home of Paṇṇan, whose hands are full of gifts, is near the wide city.
There food inexhaustible is found like the waters of the cool tank under January's moon, and the humming bees explore the sweets of the fragrant water-lily.
There he meditates the praise and glory of Kiḷḷi-vaḷavan, king of the good land that yields in abundance rice and sweet water, and that knows the fire that cooks, but not the fire that consumes.
If thither,—together with thy songstress, whose hair diffuses fragrance of the ' trumpet-flower,' the bright-browed, sweetly smiling—you softly advance, you shall prosper well.
His gifts are not mere chance, like gold found by the woodman in the forest.
Hesitate not.
Long may he flourish !