Last time we created a flutter and a huge controversy , and put all womenfolk on ignominy, when we put the poem from classical Sanskrit, ' Woman's Heart' from Bhartrihari ( 1st Cent. A.D.), esp the last 2 lines ,
' Â Woman with faults is born, with faults she grows.
Thorns are her nature, but her face the rose.'
Today to compensate and see totally the opposite of that aspect of women, we are putting a translation of a poem from Meleager - classical Greek of 1st Century B.C.
After all we all utterly and passionately love the fair-s*x and cannot do without them. Can We ?
Note esp. the last line of the poem.
How do you like the poem ? Your comments ?
A Rose of Women
Now lilies blow upon the windy height,
Now flowers the pansy kissed by tender rain,
Narcissus builds his house of self-delight
And Love's own fairest flower blooms again;
Vainly your gems, 0 meadows, you recall;
One simple girl breathes sweeter than you all. ----- Meleager
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