Black Marigolds (Chaurapanchasika) · 1919
26
Translated by E. Powys Mathers (Black Marigolds, 1919)
Even now
The woodcutter and fisherman turn home,
With on his axe the moon and in his dripping net
Caught yellow moonlight. The purple flame of fire
Calls them to love and sleep. From the hot town
The maker of scant songs for bread wanders
To lie under the clematis with his girl.
The moon shines on her breasts, and I must die.
Cite this text
MLA
Bilhana. Black Marigolds (Chaurapanchasika), 26. Translated by E. Powys Mathers. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/work/black-marigolds-mathers/25/.
Chicago
Bilhana. Black Marigolds (Chaurapanchasika), 26. Translated by E. Powys Mathers. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/work/black-marigolds-mathers/25/.