we balk and sulk
The signs were always there
When people change
we call the ancient tune
as though time was no use
Yet we love a changing world
and cherish the makers of change
You must hold high your head
the ageing hunter told his son
Those who don’t fall prey to snakes
he who does makes mince of lions
And when the village gong goes
he shall commune with bent sages
Let it not read in vain
this sacred code of life
for it gives strength
as it purges wealth
Drink it not in vain
for this is the secret of monsters
yet the goal of heroes
When the village crier calls
you may run, but can’t hide
You may deceive, but won’t decide
for duty is no honour in force
anger gives all fury in hate
You may dodge the kettle, not the pot
You may marry the princess, not the Kingdom
for if your day arrives and you demur
a million steps ahead
won’t bring you the gold.
