“See to it that he never ends,”
they might have added anyhow.
One never dies,
One’s never born
So sing the optimists
Of holy old religion,
trying to assuage –
Your shoes may look nice,
your baby buggies neater,
but one dies,
one’s born.
What the Tathagata of Buddhism
preachers,
The Prophet of Buddhahood
is that
nothing
is really
born nor dies
But that Ignorance is its Prince,
The essence never moved
From folded magnificence.
102nd Chorus
© Copyright: Джек Керуак, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111010909479
Свидетельство о публикации №111010909479
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