Page:The Tamils Eighteen Hundred Years Ago.djvu/89

Rh is a wheel (Vishnu). You both are now terrible to your enemies. Is there anything more pleasant than the friendship of two great Kings like you. Pray, listen to my words. May you be famous for ever! Each of you is powerful enough to contend with the other. But if you do not break your friendship, you would not fail to conquer the whole of this sea girt earth. Therefore be good, be just to each other, and as your ancestors did, listen not to the evil counsels of those who wish to divide you. Let your friendship last for ever, as warm as it is this day. May your lances be victorious on every battle field! May the flags of the striped tiger and of the fish wave on the top of every mountain in your eflemies’ lands!”

His generous nature and munificence to the poets who visited his court are well depicted in the poem Porunar-ârruppadai which was composed by Mudath-Thâmak-Kanniyar, about the close of the King’s reign. The poem is written as if it is addressed by the author to another poet whom he advises to visit Karikâl, describing to him all the kindness with which Karikâl received the author. It is very interesting, as it brings out clearly the cordiality with which Tamil Kings treated poets in this ancient period; I give below a translation of the poem omitting such parts as are not interesting to the general reader :—

“Oh! Minstrel! Ever ready to quit the town thou visitest as soon as the festival hold in it is over! When thy amiable wife graceful as the peahen; her hair dark and glossy; her forehead bright as the crescent moon; her eyes gentle and melting under brows arched like the death dealing bow; her lips rod like the petals of the Ilavam flower; her voice sweet as music; her teeth brilliant like rows of pearls; and ears heavy with jewels and hanging like the loops of scissors used in trimming the hair; her neck slightly bent with modesty; her slender fingers: fair as the Kanthal which blooms on the tops of lofty mountains * * * when thy wife played on the late with the fingers now softly. touching, now deftly gliding over and anon rapidly striking its chords and sweetly sang a hymn, then didst thou devoutly sprinkle