Won Are The Battles Poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

I like you to my heart;
I can’t spell it out;
I won’t let it out.

Our sojourn is so short;
Our relation is so subtle;
We both know it to be futile.

Sir, why should I care you,
Whom I can’t carry with me,
And with whom I can’t journey?

To love you is a scandal;
To have you in bed is a brothel;
To own you my own is illegal.

Neither single, nor youthful,
Nevertheless with powerful
Spirit and mind, me you rule.

Of what wood was it made?
How old was it in use?
To know you, I have no mood,

For the spear that you pierced
Into my heart is so venomous
That I lost all my senses.

Sojourn is over forever.
It is time for you to depart
For home which is too remote.

Without knowing, you go,
That you punctured my whim
And that you committed a sin.

In a war one alone can win;
Only in courtship can both win.
Still why did you let me lose?

Maybe I lost you in war;
Maybe I lost to you in war.
Still I had won many battles.

Meaningful glances and gestures,
Heartfelt talks and tacit touches
Are those battles to my credit.

Let me be content with the lost war
In that many battles that I won
Stand sweet memories ever as my own.
12.08.97