In the king’s court there were scholars many There were also many men of merit After listening to the poet All of them agreed He was the best. On his turban The king’s present - A string of pearls - They placed. Throughout the capital his fame spread He is a man of parts.
The day was done Tired of his fame He was passing by the street He saw at a window, a young maid She had a blob of kumkum on her forehead And in her hair a fresh Ashok bud In her front was laid A lotus leaf With a garland of Champa flowers on it The air was heavy with its scent. With a deep sigh the poet said, ‘But that garland is not for me!’
