Thursday, 9 October 2008

An Arakanese Poem of the 16th century (9)

Poem by:Okker Pyun

FLowers of nadaw have come,but nights are cold,
Savagely coid for one who waits alone,
Her poor mind fluttering ,as she longs to feel
The close warmth of your arms consoling her.
Sleepless she lies now through the bitter nights,
Fixing her thoughts on you,but cold to the bone,
Why do the Nats who inhabit the Six Regions
Alow so cruel a cold to chill us here?
Night after night I have complained to them,
Till I am weary complaining; they do not hear.
Wherefore I raise my hands in the form of a bud,
Wherefore appeal over the Nats to Buddha,
To those two certain Shaps of Him that exist,
To Manamuni,which lies beyond the City,
And to Sutamini in Tavatimsa,
Which is beyond the cities of this world.

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