Who trusts in Mahomet, who - in Buddha, who - in Jesus,
And who in spite of all believes in naught, including hell.
A very nice religion was invented by old Hindus.
We don’t die forever when the spirit leaves the shell.
Up there aimed the soul of thine,
You would be born with dream again.
But if you lived so like a swine,
A swine you will remain.
Let people awry gaze at you. Get used to the reproach.
It vexes. Wait. You will be born again sharp needle-like.
But if you saw your foe’s death when yours had not approached,
In new life you’d be gifted by a true and eagle eye.
So let life take its natural course.
There’s reason to be happy,
Cause it might be into a boss
Your spirit will inhabit.
Who cares if you're janitor, you’ll be reborn a foreman,
And then after the foreman to a minister will rise.
But if you are dumb as a log, you will turn to a baobab,
And you’ll remain the baobab for the entire thousand years!
To be a parrot frets and fumes.
An adder’s long lifetime annoys.
Is not it preferably for you
To spend your life as decent boy?
But who is who and who was whom we fail to find out.
Geneticists are driven mad by genes and chromosomes.
It may be that this pleasant man was in the past good hound.
But one who was a vagabond is now a shabby tom.
I in delight hop full of glee.
I pass over temptations.
A very comfortable creed
Was built by Hindu nation.
Рисунок - Людмила Костылева (vk.com/id243694266), фотошоп - Павел Баканов.
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