where dancers swirl to the music
sounding from the eye of the drum.
The gardens:
rich in bees’ pollen,
awash with fragrant flowers
they return the hospitality
of the sweet, resounding waters.
The groves, the lakes, the river island,
the bees singing and sipping honey,
everything
everywhere
glows with the beauty of blossoms.
This is the coming of the Vaiyai!
Her friends surround her, spraying her with water.
Lines 19–40
The coloured liquid
is splashed on her breasts
that are tender like fruit.
Rather than wipe it away,
she dabs the water
with the edge of her long garment.
Seeing him come to her,
her friends say deceptively,
‘Leave her be,
she has just flowered.’
But he observes the coloured water,
which smells of flowers,
and understands the ruse.
With a laugh, he goes away, taking her along,
like a river rushing to join the immense, dark ocean.
Not drinking the fruit liquor,
nor wiping away the blood-red water,
he makes love to her.
Her friends say,
‘She is blossoming,
may she live long,
and prosper.’
The Vaiyai makes her blush.
Lines 41–63
The water comes down from the mountains,
carrying branches of flower clusters
that adorn the banks,
carrying cool flowers, rich in nectar,
swept from women’s hair,
carrying petals fallen from garlands
on the men’s broad chests.
The Vaiyai resembles the Kankai,
which flows in the sky
among the stars, sparkling like pearls.
This is the Vaiyai’s nature, the river where the bees hum.
Eyes are red, because of
palm liquor
flowing water
lovemaking.
Eyes, shimmering like fish,
laced with collyrium,
become redder still.
In the waters,
where nectar trickles from the flowers
fallen from women’s hair,
the beautiful striped bees
Lines 64–85
teem around the petals,
mouths to the flowers.
There,
in those waters,
he embraces
the bathing women,
over and over.
The musk paste on his chest
smears as he rises in the water,
resembling a mountain peak
where stored honey trickles
when the bent bamboo springs up.
This is the Vaiyai’s nature,
the river that belongs to the one
whose chariot bears the flag of victory.
As clouds rumble in the mountains,
waves in these sweet waters
crash on the banks.
O Vaiyai!
Men wearing garlands
round their heads and chests
Lines 86–106
women wearing garlands
of fragrant flowers
bathing in your waters every day,
so that they see
the fruits of their good deeds,
so that their
scented pastes,
smoke
and sacred offerings
never diminish.
May the rains never fail.
May your waters never recede.
Lines 107–18
Paripāṭal XX
‘You are Like the Shallow Waters, in Which Anyone Can Play’
The oceans have been drunk dry.
Heavy clouds
surround the mountains,
then pour with rain,
surging violently down,
shattering the hillside rocks,
while raging thunder crashes and rumbles.
The tusk of the mighty elephant
with the speckled forehead
is stained with blood,
having pierced its foe, the tiger.
The rain cleanses, washes the blood away.
In the morning,
the clouds drink from the sea,
then go westward—
the way of the burning sun—
reaching the hills
by evening.
Lines 1–18
At night,
the world sleeps
as the clouds
and offer rains
that pour down
releasing
the smell of the flowers that the honey-laden tree offers,
the smell of water on the dry forest ground,
scorched by the sun and blown by the wind,
the smell of fruit fallen from branches.
These smells, Vaiyai mingles
carries
and offers to others.
People who love the smell
of warm waters
and lush gardens,
sound the parai drums.
As water flows
along channels
on high walls,
people wake from their sleep
to water sounds.
Lines 19–41
Rising, they harness their horses,
pullers of mighty chariots,
to tug their boats to the Vaiyai.
They yoke bulls,
pullers of tugboats,
to mighty chariots.
Outfitting elephants with horse saddles,
or, leading them out,
unadorned
men wear women’s garlands
and women, too, wear men’s.
In their haste to reach the river
everyone is confused.
Still, they arrive at the vast waters
by the neck of the sandy hills,
on the beautiful banks
where the bees hum
and young women play.
Those who did not rush
are melancholic,
standing on the streets
lined with mansions.
This is the nature of the Vaiyai, beloved of the Kutal people.
Lines 42–64
Women wear scented garlands.
Men wear different kinds of garlands, woven in many ways.
Adorned with jewels on their heads and foreheads,
armbands and well-cut gems,
they gather in crowds,
climbing the lovely banks
to see everyone else’s ornaments.
At this place, by the river,
standing by the side of her husband,
she sees her necklace and bangle
on the body of another woman.
Seeing the lost bangle on the other woman’s arm,
she is stung with agony.
Her companions think,
‘Surely, she must be the other woman!’
They say,
‘Look at the thief’s face, burning with shame!’
The other woman
flees,
seeking shelter
in the forest-like crowds
Lines 65–85
of women
whose eyes are darkened with collyrium
whose eyelashes resemble arrows in battle.
Seeing her vanish into the masses,
like the Vaiyai vanishes into the ocean,
they think, ‘This one, with the beautiful forehead:
she is his other woman.’
And there,
in the mounds of sand on the riverbank
they follow her int
o the throngs.
The other woman turns and demands in anger:
‘Why this pursuit?’
The one bereft of her jewels,
the one with the beautiful teeth,
stands silent.
It is her friend who retorts:
‘You mix lies with desire
confounding the men who visit you.
‘Woman for sale,
you are without attachments,
your body is public property.
Lines 86–106
‘Your lips are a trough:
those who drink from you
only pleasure their senses.
‘Your beauty is a field:
irrigated by fresh, fragrant liquor,
ploughed by carnal pleasure.
You make our ox labour
to plough the land.
‘With your proud and pretty eyes,
laced with collyrium,
like a rope
you bind men with your soft round shoulders,
playing the yal with delicate fingers,
for those who come to you.
‘Wearing our ornaments,
you are like the shallow waters
in which anyone can play.
‘To discipline our unruly ox,
we bring him to the cattle shed,
for the women on the sandbanks to see
and we strike him in anger:
we bring our man
to the Vaiyai
and whip him with our garlands.
Lines 107–30
‘For
it is not the way of farmers
to let go of the ox
that refuses to do its work:
we bring the ox here
for this gathering
to see
that it belongs to us.
‘This is why we pursued you.
‘She gave you his chest,
which belonged to her,
for you to embrace.
‘Do you think
your chest, adorned by that necklace,
has anything in common
with her chest?’
The other woman is livid and spiteful.
The women who have gathered
on the banks of the Vaiyai
reproach her:
‘Do not be angry with her,
She is powerful and pure.
Lines 131–52
She can remove afflictions with her mere thoughts.
Do not be foolish and abusive.
Come now, pay your respects
to the one as delicate as a peacock.’
The other woman thinks:
‘This torment could endure forever!’
Turning to them, she says:
‘O Mother,
it is just as shameful
to praise your enemies
as it is to praise
the other woman.
Your Excellence,
don’t you see?’
Finally, the one
who lost her jewels
speaks:
‘You shamelessly offer
pillow talk
in public places.
‘You sway on stage
to the beat of a drum—
a common dancer.
Do not be so proud
of yourself.
Lines 153–77
‘Those bracelets belong on my wrists.
That pearl necklace was a gift from my father.
You did not chance upon them
by some wondrous act of magic.
If you told the truth
about who gave them to you
you may gain a measure of respect.’
The other woman replies:
‘You, with the lovely atiral garland,
your beloved is my beloved.
‘He gave me these jewels
in return for my love.
‘Beautiful one,
he would unfasten your anklet too!
‘He is the thief, not I:
he is the one you should hunt!’
The gathered women address
them each in turn:
‘Enchanting doe,
do not quarrel any more.
Lines 178–97
The world knows
that gifts offered
in moments of desire
are yours to keep.’
‘O innocent one,
You are angry
but ignorant of the
ways of the world.
‘Can a wife stop her husband
from seeking the bed of those
sweet in lovemaking?
‘Of course not.
‘Virtuous women honour their husbands
even when they are slighted.
‘Can a wife stop her husband
from pursuing the other women
he desires?
‘Of course not.
‘Do not be angry. Do not be angry.
‘O woman, as slender as a creeper,
can the flow of passion
Lines 198–218
be stopped
or contained in one place?’
And so,
in this way,
the Vaiyai of the Southern King,
in its greatness,
produces anger
quarrelling
then acceptance.
Buds close like the hands
of women, slender as vines.
Petals spread like the hood
of an angry serpent.
Flowers float on the waters
springing from the mountains.
Flowers fallen from branches,
flowers blooming in the bush—
all are carried by the Vaiyai’s waves.
Water flows
In long channels
along the walls protecting Kutal,
the city of great mansions,
like the water that flows
from the raised trunk
of the furious elephant.
Lines 219–43
Love causes union
but also anger and separation
those things we fear.
Mixing love and liquor,
bringing together lover and beloved
to bathe and make love:
this is the nature of Vaiyai,
full of flowers.
Lines 244–51
Paripāṭal XXII
‘Thunder Resounds Like the Battle Drums’
Clouds gather
like rows of elephants
received as tribute in battle
by the lord of the mountains,
with his shining sword.
Thunder resounds
like the battle drums
of the one whose anger
is not quenched by victory.
Raindrops scatter
like swift, raging arrows
released from his army’s bows
as it battles the unruly enemy.
Lightning glitters
like his gleaming spear.
Waters descend from the sky
like his benevolence.
Lines 1–17
In the land, rains stream relentlessly,
swelling the fields heaped with grain,
like his army invading enemy land
[…]
Carrying
lotions,
fire,
pastes,
water toys,
bathing clothes,
liquor
and delicate garments
they come:
women wearing
garlands of tightly woven flowers,
red and beautiful,
garlands of moist vetci leaves,
garlands adorning their hair;
men with broad chests;
horses, elephants and mules adorned with jewels.
All go forth in a line.
Lines 18–37
People come, swelling the grov
es and filling the banks.
Men in warriors’ anklets,
Resembling mighty Murukan, wielder of the vel,
men in garlands,
beautiful like the love god with his fragrant flower arrows,
women with tresses
black as rain clouds,
fish-like eyes,
lips like red coral flowers,
breasts like tender fruit,
women covered in sashes,
waist chains tied in many ways,
people,
with beautiful rows of teeth,
glittering like ornaments—
all go forth.
Do they adorn the lovely Vaiyai,
or does the Vaiyai adorn them?
Those
watching
and pondering
cannot tell.
Lines 38–59
The place where the Vaiyai touches its bank is beautiful
to behold.
Thunder resounds,
echoing the sweet rhythm
of the round mud mulavu drum
and the yal with its sultry notes.
In the groves
flecked, striped bees
carry flowers, humming
as if playing flutes.
Tirelessly, the bees buzz and nourish flowers.
[…]
Dancers sway to beats
of the tuti drum,
like slender branches
of blossoming creepers
dancing seductively
to the music of the breeze.
In Tirumarutamunturai, on the banks of the Vaiyai,
every sound has its echo.
Lines 60–77
Paripāṭal Compilation
‘Did the Fresh Waters Know You Were Here?’
Dark clouds pour rain,
bestowing the earth with water
to preserve it.
The land is completely submerged.
Waters rush down
from the mountains,
awash with fragrant flowers,
gems and nakam trees.
The beloved Vaiyai rushes towards Kutal.
Hearing that Vaiyai
is enriched with fresh waters,
city folk gather
like happy foot soldiers,
then go to the market
to buy colourful water playthings.
Men and women decorate themselves, adding to their natural
beauty.
Lines 1–16
They wear
handwoven garlands and
strings of flowers in their hair.
They adorn themselves with
clothes and perfumes
that make others exclaim
in excitement.
They pour fragrant oils on their curls and braids.
Delicate women gracefully ride elephants, decked in jewels;
alongside them, men ride horses with stiff manes;
still others ride covered carts and charming chariots.
Some gather their families,
thinking,
‘Let us not get separated,