She is more than my life,
I call her my wife,
Almighty's writ runs,
We abide by the heaven's.
My maker chose my companion,
Indeed a peaceful pigeon,
Infused lofty qualities in her,
Ordered me to be her partner.
She is above Caesar's Calpurnia,
Old King Lear's daughter Cordelia,
Passionate Antony's Cleopatra kind,
Or green wood Orlando's Rosalind.
To me, she as waves to the ocean,
Green as springs passion,
As stars to those blue skies
She is after all my own eyes.
Me a boat, she its oar,
Smoothly sail from shore to shore,
Me a flower, she its beauty,
If me a truth, she its sincerity.
In my own kingdom,
She an angel with freedom,
In her lord's health,
She heaves her own breath.
She webs a world around me,
She worships me on her knee,
In fondness when I kiss,
A hundred years to live I wish.
When I come as a wrecked ship,
Harbours me with a kiss on my lip,
She lulls me to sleep,
After she sheds her tears of weep.
For her every drop of tears,
Had I to reparate for years,
She a peak in her conjugal love,
Yet she heads to look above.
Yesupatham Savarimuthu.
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