Tkl 3 2 02

Created by Jijith Nadumuri at 11 Oct 2011 11:16 and updated at 11 Oct 2011 11:16

TIRUKKURAL of Tiruvalluvar, the Tamil poet

BOOK 3

LOVE

DIVISION 2

3.2 The Post marital Love

ADHIKARAM 2

3.2.2. Complainings

1161
I would my pain conceal, but see! it surging swells,
As streams to those that draw from ever springing wells.
I would hide this pain from others; but it (only) swells like a spring to those who drain it.

1162
I cannot hide this pain of mine, yet shame restrains
When I would tell it out to him who caused my pains.
I cannot conceal this pain, nor can I relate it without shame to him who has caused it.

1163
My soul, like porter s pole, within my wearied frame,
Sustains a Two fold burthen poised, of Love and Shame.
(Both) Lust and shame, with my Soul for their shoulder pole balance themselves on a body that cannot bear them.

1164
A Sea of Love, tis true, I see stretched out before,
But not the trusty bark that wafts to yonder shore.
There is indeed a flood of Lust; but there is no raft of safety to cross it with.

1165
Who work us woe in Friendship s trustful hour,
What will they prove when angry tempests lower?
He who can produce Sorrow from Friendship, what can he not bring forth out of enmity

1166
A happy Love s Sea of joy; but mightier Sorrows roll
From unpropitious Love athwart the troubled soul.
The Pleasure of Lust is (as great as) the sea; but the pain of Lust is far greater.

1167
I swim the cruel tide of Love, and can no shore descry,
In watches of the night, too, mid the Waters, only I!
I have swam across the terrible flood of Lust, but have not seen its shore; even at midnight I am alone; still I live.

1168
All living Souls in slumber soft she steeps;
But me alone kind night for her companing keeps!
The night which graciously lulls to sleep all living creatures, has me alone for her companion.

1169
More cruel than the cruelty of him, the cruel one,
In these sad times are lengthening hours of night I watch alone.
The long nights of these days are far more cruel than the Heartless one who is torturing me.

1170
When eye of mine would as my Soul go forth to him,
It knows not how through floods of its own Tears to swim.
Could mine Eyes travel like my thoughts to the abode (of my absent lord), they would not swim in this flood of Tears.

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