74. The young saint refuge sought from Death;
To save him, Thou grim Death did'st slay,
Such deeds Thy might accomplisheth,
And I who have beheld them pray
"O Father, should dread Yama press
On me, forbid him. 'Tis my slave";
Do Thou in green Pungur confess.
I've reached Thy foot, and Thou can'st save."

Sundarar is sure that Siva will understand his perplexities in supplying the needs of his fair ladies. For does not Siva Himself bear the burden of two ladies, Parvati his consort, and Ganga (lady Ganges) in his hair? Sundarar, in the legend with which these verses are connected, when one of his wives was suffering hunger, miraculously received some uncooked rice from Siva. This was not enough; to complete the miracle Siva must remove the rice for him to Arur the abode of his fair one. This too was done in answer to the hymn of which the next two stanzas are a sample.

75. Ever I think but of Thee;
Daily in worship I bow;
She of the sword-piercing eyes,
Leave her not suffering now.
Kolili's lord, Thou didst give
Rice in Kundaiyur this day.
No man to bring it have I,
Bid it be sent me, I pray.

76. Thou art half woman Thyself;
Ganga is in Thy long hair.
Full well canst Thou comprehend
Burden of women so fair.
Kundaiyur circled with gems,
There didst Thou give rice to-day.
Source of all, wonderful one,
Bid it be sent me, I pray.

The saint advises his fellow-poets to sing the praises of Siva rather than the praises of men because they seldom reward the poets. Siva rewards them here and hereafter. The Pari mentioned in 78 was a chieftain in the Tamil country in the early centuries of our era, famed for his liberality.

77. Though ye fawn on men of lies,
They to saints will nothing give;
Sing not them, O poets wise,
But if ye would wealth receive
Sing the Sire of Puhalur;
Here your wants will be supplied,
Pain will flee; there evermore
Ye will kings in heav'n abide.

78. Call the weak by Bhima's name,
Style him Arjun with his bow,
Give the mean man Pari's fame,
Not a gift will he bestow.
Sing, O bards, our holy God,
White with ash, in Puhalur.
In the deathless one's abode
Ye shall reign for evermore.

Life and experience have no value, no reality. God alone is real, the refuge from the unreal.

79. Our life is all unreal,
Its end is only dust,
Out of the sea of birth
Come ruin, pain and lust.
Delay not to do good
But praise Ketaram's king,
Whom Vishnu and great Brahm
Vainly sought sorrowing.

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MANIKKA VASAHAR

MANIKKA VASAHAR AND HIS HYMNS

IV.