Malayan Literature: Comprising Romantic Tales, Epic Poetry and Royal Chronicles
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Malayan Literature: Comprising Romantic Tales, Epic Poetry and Royal Chronicles
Malay literature -- Translations into English
When near
He halted and forthwith an envoy sent
His coming to announce, together with
The _laksimana mantri_. "Mighty King,"
They said, "thy royal father hath arrived."
The King his heralds ordered then to call
Lila Mengindra. With a smile he said
To him: "Assemble in the square the folk
And army. Straight to my pavilion let
Them come, and all in holiday attire,
For I my father am to meet to-day."
Lila Mengindra bowed and hied him forth
To execute the orders of the King.
The King within his palace went, and sat
Upon a jewelled seat. The Queen was there,
And good Lila Mengindra at her side.
The King said smilingly: "Light of my eyes,
Let all the palace decorated be.
Assemble all the palace folk and all
The younger girls. For now without the gates
Our parents wait. To-morrow I shall go
To meet them." Then Queen Bidasari cried,
With smiles: "My brother they have come to see.
I cannot go before them and declare
Myself their daughter." But the young prince said:
"Oh, speak not thus, my sister, but give heed
To what I say to thee, and be not wroth.
If I'm the only one they love, alone
I'll go with them away." Then to the King
He said: "With my dear sister I but jest,
To quiet her alarms." He bowed before the King
And asked permission forth to go at once
To meet his father. "Nay," replied the King,
"We'll go together." A repast was served
With every kind of food. The royal three
Together ate. Then from the betel-box
They _siri_ took, and perfumes sweet they used.
The prince then from the palace forth did go.
Next day the King invited him to start
With him upon the royal progress. All
The banners waved, and everyone was glad.
Then to the Queen he said: "Stay here, my love,
And I will hither bring thy father dear."
These words rejoiced the Queen. She said: "Go forth,
My dear, and I will follow with my eyes."
The King then took his leave with the young prince,
With many _mantris_ following. The strains
Of gladsome music sounded. All the bells
Were rung, and those without the cavalcade
Were sad.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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