Mātali, don’t ram the bird nests in the red silk-cotton woods with your draft-pole. I’d rather give up our lives to the titans than deprive these birds of their nests.
Stories of Past Lives 32 The Book of the Ones Nests Dancing: a past life story
Your cry is sweet, your back brilliant, your neck the color of sapphire, and your feathers a full fathom long; still, because of your dancing, I will not give you my daughter.
Stories of Past Lives 33 The Book of the Ones Nests Agreement: a past life story
In agreement, the birds fly, taking away the net. But when they start arguing they’ll come under my sway.
Stories of Past Lives 34 The Book of the Ones Nests The Fish: a past life story