Come hither—story-tellers and town-criers,—

If you know one fire, can you know many fires?

And the Priests of Thought came from East and West,

And all that was simple and true them messed;

You have a blade, but it’s a blade of grass—

Isn’t it a donkey that looks through the glass?

Wise things are given to those who yet lie,

Who say, the cry of the soul is a silly cry.

Come hither—town-criers and story-tellers,—

You may yell, but yell never of the yellers;

You sure are smart, do up bright robe and cap,

But when you argue you leave many a gap:

Yet a hundred town-drummers would applaud,

Your rational sense that need not know God.

RY Deshpande

18 May 2009

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WWPuMyk8968