
| |

These are some poems from Sangam literature (Purananooru Kuruntokai).
The translations are by A K Ramanujan, the noted poet. These are excerpted from the book
'Poems of Love and War' published by Colombia University Press. The Sangam poetry has been
cheapened by propaganda, in that they are overated in one sense (praised sky high), but
they are also underrated in terms of understanding their significance. Very few records of
such antiquity would be available (in any language) to illustrate the life at common man's
level - and unlikely in this abundant richness. These may be of some use
atleast for expatriate Tamil schools. Could any readers send Tamil originals of
the verses given here.
The verses are austere with no frills but in austerity each word
contributes in evoking feelings, of pathos in death, of love, and assumes gravity when
counseling kings. Red earth around the agricultural areas of Jaffna is
"Chembadu". Incessant pouring monsoon rains induces an exquisite feeling. This
savored in a mood of solitude; you just watch the rain dissolving the red earth and
flowing in streamlets. Themes like these ( Chempulapeyarinar's below) and many others
could be related in any era. Omens such as cawing of a crow , harbinger of the news of the
arrival of much awaited guests (kakkai patiniyar's verse given here). Another omen of
ghekko "telling" events ahead (depending on the direction it shouts from) are
even today widely followed among the Tamils SathiMuththa pulavar's "narayf narayf .....nA[KAr PAr kA[ Krlf plfli paDparftftiRkfKmf... describes
an anxious wife trying to fortell what is happening to her husband far away. In another
poem: a young wife, cooking amidst smoke filled kitchen, her slender fingers pureeing
"solid curd" wiping her hands in the dress. Domestic scenes ( Mqityirf piAcnft kanftqf emlfvirlf ) as seen through the eyes of
the girl's best friend after her marriage, told with a poetic tenderness.
The underlying thread of social views of that era found in these poems
surprisingly still runs its own program in us, along with other threads of modern
believes. We are the puppetts at the end of all this multi threaded programs. The idea
such as that 'a few good men are the kingpin of orderly social behavior' is more than a
practical wisdom. That by interaction good man becomes a role model, an anchor and a
mediator, is obvious. But this idea goes further than the obvious. It has its roots in
mysticism. A Saint need not interact, his just being there is enough. His influence will
permeate and enrich the society. This is the belief. Is there is any relevance of Sangam
poetry to modern living ? On this I have already said above what appears to me.
 | This World Lives Because.... |
This world lives
because
some men
do not eat alone,
not even when they get
the sweet ambrosia of the gods;
they've no anger in them,
they fear evils other men fear
but never sleep over them;
give their lives for honor,
will not touch a gift of whole worlds
if tainted;
there's no faintness in their hearts
and they do not strive
for themselves.
because such men are,
This world is.
Ilam Peruvaluthi
Purananuru

Earth's Bounty
Bless you, earth;
field,
forest,
valley,
or hill.
You are only
as good
as the good young men
in each place Auvaiyar
Purananooru 187

Not Rice,Not Water
Not Rice,
not water
Only the king
is the life-breath
of a kingdom.
And it is the duty
of a king
with his army of spears
to know
he's the life
of the wide, blossomming kingdom Mocikiranar

After the War....... Paari's Parampu after it fell
That Month
That Month
in that white moonlight,
we had our father,
and no one
could take the hill.
This month
in this white moonlight,
kings with drums
drumming victory
have taken over the hill,
and we
have no father. Paari's daughters on death

The Horse Did Not Come Back
The horse did not come back,
his horse did not come back.
All other horses have come back.
The horse
of our good man,
who was father in our house
to a little son
with tuft of hair
like a plume on a steed,
It did not come back.
Has it fallen now,
his horse
that bore him through the battle,
has it fallen
like the great tree
standing at the meeting place
of two rivers ? Erumai Veliyanar
Purananooru 273

A Poet's Counsel
to a cruel king when he was about to have his enemy's children trampled
to death by elephants in a public place
You have come from a line of Chozha king
Who gave his flesh
for a pigeon in danger,
and for others beside,
and these children also come
from a line of kings
who in their cool shade
share all they have
lest poets,
those tillers of nothing
but wisdom,
should suffer hardships.
Look at these children,
the crowns of their heads are still soft.
As they watch the elephants,
they even forget to cry,
stare dumbstruck at the crows
in some new terror
of things unknown.
Now that you have heard me out,
do what you will Kovoor Killar to Killi Vallavan
purananooru 46

What He Said
What could my mother be
to yours ? What kin is my father
to yours anyway ? And how
did you and I meet ever ?
But in love.
Our hearts have mingled
like red earth and pouring rain. Chempulapeyarinar
["poet of red earth and pouring rain"] Kuruntokai 40

What He said
Melt all the butter
from all the cows of all the cowherds
in the woods of Nalli who has strong chariots,
mix it
with steaming rice
from the dense white paddy
of Thonti fields,
heap them
in seven bowls
and offer all that to that crow
that cawed those good omens
bringing guests
and an end to the grief
that has been wasting my girls arms.
Even so,
the offering
would still be too little. Kakkai Patiniyar Nacellaiyar
["Nacellai who sang the crow"]
Kuruntokai 210

All towns are our towns..........
YyaT YMEr yavRmf
Ekqirf |
Every town our home
town |
|
every man a kinsman |
tITmf n[fBmf pibrftr
vara |
Good and evil do not
come |
|
From others |
EnatLnf t]itL mvbfEba
r[f[ |
Pain and relief of pain |
|
come of themselves |
catLmf p<Tvt[fEb
vazftlf |
Dying is nothing new |
|
We do not rejoice |
;[iet[ mkizfnft[fB
milEm M[ivi[f |
that life is sweet |
|
nor in anger |
;[f[a et[fbaL milEm
mi[fe[aD |
call it bitter |
|
|
va[nf t]fDqi tAl;
ya[T |
Our lives, however
dear, |
|
follow their own
course, |
klfepaR tirgfK mlflbf
EprfyabfB |
rafts drifting |
|
in the rapids of a
great river |
MAbvzipf pYDu em[fpT
tibEvarf |
sounding and dashing
over rocks |
|
after a down pour |
kadfciyibf ebqinft[
makli[f madfdciyibf |
from skies slashed by
lightnings - |
|
We know this |
epriEyaAr viytftL
milEm |
from the vision |
|
of men who see, |
cibiEyaAr yikzft
lt[i{ milEm |
So, |
|
We are not amazed by
the great |
|
and we do not scorn the
little |
|
|
p<bnaNaB 192 |
trans: A K Ramanujan |
k]iy[f
p>gfK[fb[f padfD |
from: Poems of Love and
War |
|