Power & Piety

Hare 4
Cobras my aunt honours,
“Go Cobra, dear Cobra, Go!!”
Bodhisattva once you were;
We honour you in His name.

Honour these men villains,
Who ransacked villages;
They are now gods in regions;
Them we honour in our names.

Bunny his own flesh did offer
Haring into dancing flames;
Gaily, we send him on flames
To honour his act of giving.

Forever, he’ll be in the moon,
An award to his self-giving;
Bodhisattva we’d gladly burn,
If he weren’t vicious but kind.

That’s how we honor our piety:
We honour a one if he’s mighty;
If he’s meek and gentle, Sires,
We send him promptly on fires.


(Another interpretation to Sasa Jataka, “The Tale of Hare”.)

Copyright © March 7, 2019, Newton Ranaweera
Image source: Pixabay


An utter lie it is
whenever I say I’m sick;
when you say you’re sick,
an absolute truth it is.

Who is truly sick?

Can the same thing,
at the same time,
be an absolute truth
and an utter lie?

Protagoras defends you,
“Truth is relative;”
both hot and cold
a glass of water can be.

I don’t need Greek;
it is certain then,
power is truth;
colour has power,

so you’re truly sick.

Image source: Pixabay