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[ 1 ]
Why do these prudes fear Prakrit poetry,
our music, and the blunt facts of love?
They draw back from that nectar,
yet wince as if they taste love's ashes.
[9]
The way of love is crooked and fragile
like the hair on a crab or a cucumber.
Therefore you fail to impress me, weeping
with your too perfect face, round as the moon.
[54]
A flock of green parrots
falls from the sky
like a necklace of emeralds.
But she's not looking, nor is he. |
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[59]
Love dies if you can't get to see her
or if you see her too much,
also from the gossip of vile men.
Or from no cause at all.
[263]
Peacocks dance to one music,
that of the thunder.
Smelling the rain they stretch out
their necks, long for the great monsoon.
[316]
Take that damned parrot away.
He repeats all our love talk
to everyone in the village,
has them gathered around him. |
