Akanaṉūṟu

The Akananuru (Tamil: அகநானூறு, Akanāṉūṟu, literally "four hundred [poems] in the akam genre"), sometimes called Nedunthokai (lit.

The poem places a triumphant Rama at Dhanushkodi, sitting under a Banyan tree, involved in some secret discussions, when the birds are chirping away.

At the hoary Tanushkoti upon the shore — The town of the great Pandyas, The wielders of victorious spears –, A town where women would collect blooms of neytal With rounded stems Which would blossom amidst green foliage In the watery fields, hard by the shore, Where the fresh and golden blossoms of Nalal And punnai trees shed their pollen And make picturesque the sand —-, To adorn themselves on festival days.

[11] However the text Harivamsa which is complex, containing layers that go back to the 1st or 2nd centuries BCE, Consists the parts of Krishna Playing with Gopis and stealing sarees.

The Akananuru poems were likely composed later in the Sangam period than other akam poetry based on the linguistic evidence, the introduction of mathematical arrangement, and given the mention of overseas trade and north Indian dynasties.

Akananuru contains 401 stanzas and is divided into three sections[5] Bharathidasan University has published a full translation of all the 400 songs by A. Dakshinamurthy in 3 volumes in 1999:[14] (The heroine's companion consoles her friend at the advent of the rainy season)

The rumbling clouds winged with lightning Poured amain big drops of rain and augured the rainy season; Buds with pointed tips have sprouted in the jasmine vines; The buds of Illam and the green trunk Kondrai have unfolded soft; The stags, their black and big horns like twisted iron Rushed up toward the pebbled pits filled with water And leap out jubilantly having slaked their thirst; The wide expansive Earth is now free From all agonies of the summer heat And the forest looks exceedingly sweet; Behold there O friend of choicest bangles!

Our hero of the hilly track will be coming eftsoon, Driving fast his ornate chariot drawn by the steeds With waving plumes and trimmed manes When the stiffly tugged reins Will sound like the strumming of Yal.