To Monette B. (Fairy Guruschka)
In Dusseldorf, on Fridays, once a week
Her father had a round-table talk.
The little girl wasn’t granted leave to speak,
Redeemed, not also sent to walk.
She couldn’t afford to miss the chance
To listen to the sages’ discourse.
When they were not in a consonance,
The truth was in the middle, of course.
No, not the table center got the truth —
The clever girl was sitting under it!
For her it was the only place to choose
To sit at their feet.
March 26, 2013
The German Upanishads
© Copyright: Пауль Каллен, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113032802497
Свидетельство о публикации №113032802497
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