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It's spring in the hills of Malaya

It's spring in the hills of Malaya
and Mother in law
bars me from leaving the house
She must know
the fragrant ankota tree, luring me out
to the one death worth dying

(Anonymous, Sattasai)
Translated by Andrew Schelling

View the painting

About Indian Poetry

In the cane groves of Narmada river

Cool thickets

It's spring in the hills of Malaya

Dark smoking heavens

Those arbours of vines

Poems from the Sanskrit

Scarlet betel-nut juice

O friend, there is no end to my joy!

Bibliography

About the poets

Acknowledgments