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!’
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