By No Mean
When he came to shop
In his shallowness and voidness
Like infant he picked
Daring the cost,ignoring the terms
And when we demand for fulfillment
He says the gods must be crazy
But the gods are by no mean;
Beneath our ware are our terms.
Even when we gave him freely
And decorated him like royal horse
He drew our jewel into the carapace
And when we give him no more
He says the gods must be crazy
But the gods are by no mean;
Of what use is our gold on tortoise’s neck?
The day we washed him clean
And lavished on him our lavender
No sooner we dressed him up
Than the swine returned to the slum
And when we wash him no more
He says the gods must be crazy
But the gods are by no mean ;
We just don‘t flirt with filth.
6 /1 / 16.
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