ABOUT THE POEM:
The poem THE WARRIOR’S WARNING is a powerful war message delivered by a bard on behalf of a victorious king. The poet vividly describes the condition of the king’s weapons, army, and war animals after numerous successful battles. The sword is stained with the blood of slain warriors, the spear is blunted from attacking fortified towns, the elephants have broken enemy gates and lost their tusk ornaments in combat, and the horses bear the marks of fierce warfare. Even the king himself stands wounded, his armour pierced despite his splendour and courage.
Having established the king’s irresistible military strength, the poet turns to the enemy rulers and offers them wise counsel. If they wish to retain their fertile lands and prosperous rice fields, they should submit and pay tribute to the king. Refusal will only provoke a warrior who is accustomed to victory and incapable of tolerating defiance. The poet warns that those who choose war will likely perish, leaving their loving wives widowed and bereft.
Thus, the poem combines vivid martial imagery with political diplomacy. It celebrates the king’s valour and military supremacy while urging rival rulers to choose prudence over pride. Its central message is that wisdom lies in recognizing overwhelming power and avoiding a war that can bring only destruction and sorrow.
THE WARRIOR’S WARNING
The sword once honed for war now bears a stain,
For rampart-guarding warriors it laid low;
Its former beauty lost in blood-marked grain.
The spear, that pierced through forts in deadly flow,
And struck the folk of many a guarded town,
Has blunted now its diamond point of woe.
The elephants that battered gateways down,
Till mighty bars of ironwood were torn,
Have lost their tusk-rings, cast aside and brown.
They charged till hostile elephants forlorn
Were quelled beneath their irresistible might;
Their ornaments were shattered, ripped, and worn.
The steeds leapt through the thickest of the fight,
Their hoofs with dust and crimson splashes dyed,
Advancing still through terror and through night.
The king himself stands glorious in his pride,
Though pierced his armour on the flower-crowned breast,
Where golden thumbai garlands still abide.
O rulers who would rouse him from his rest,
Attend my words and weigh them with due care:
If fields of ripened rice you would possess,
Then pay him tribute; keep your lands and share.
Refuse—and he, whose victories know no cease,
Will not endure denial anywhere.
And if my counsel fails your hearts to please,
Your wives whose loving arms around you twine
May lose you soon, deprived of all their peace.
Consider this, O lords, before the sign;
Play not with war as though it were a game,
For death may claim what once you called benign.
The choice is yours—to yield or face his flame,
And heed the warning borne on battle’s breath,
Whose conquering wrath no mortal host can tame.
PURANANURU - 97
POET: AVVAIYAR
PATRON:ADHIYAMAN NEDUMAN ANJI