Leaves swirl, dance in the lazy breeze,
Silvery conches float on high,
Paddy fields are blushing brides,
Deflowered by their sickle grooms.
The beetle thrives in the mango seed,
The paramour hides behind lace curtains,
Assassins bide their time but
The maidens feast on, and sing.
The dinner table graciously bears
The generous gifts of the season,
Even beggars and dogs grow fat and lazy,
In a time of peace and plenty.
As the full moon rises on the lake,
He likens the two orbs to her bosom
Which are the only fruits he needs,
Beggar now, but master later.
Silence embraces the palace at last,
Barrels are empty, drunkards are filled,
Nodding sentries lean on spears,
But serpents and thieves know no sleep.
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