There is chance none for the slander to cease
Whether I had seen or not
The dinsome chariot which fled non-stop,
Despite the control of the charioteer,
Our friends who plucked the blooms,
Glittering and pollen-rich
Of the punnai trees thriving on high white sand dunes
With low-hanging boughs, during mid-day
Had seen it when it fled through
The sinking ford of the vast sea.
Poet – Centan Kiran
Translated by A.Dakshinamurthy.