7.30.2010

Wankhar Entomology Museum, Shillong, Meghalaya (India) I















THE KASÎDAH V, 89, 100

Earthquake and plague, storm, fight and fray,
 portents and curses man must deem
Since he regards his self alone,
 nor cares to trace the scope, the scheme;

The Quake that comes in eyelid’s beat
 to ruin, level, ’gulf and kill,
Builds up a world for better use,
 to general Good bends special Ill:

The dreadest sound man’s ear can hear,
 the war and rush of stormy Wind
Depures the stuff of human life,
 breeds health and strength for humankind:

7.28.2010

Siat Khnam, Shillong, Meghalaya (India) II




















THE KASÎDAH V, 73, 88

The “moral sense,” your Zâhid-phrase,
 is but the gift of latest years;
Conscience was born when man had shed
 his fur, his tail, his pointed ears.

What conscience has the murd’erous Moor,
 who slays his guest with felon blow,
Save sorrow he can slay no more,
 what prick of pen’itence can he know?

You cry the “Cruelty of Things”
 is myst’ery to your purblind eye,
Which fixed upon a point in space
 the general project passes by:

For see! the Mammoth went his ways,
 became a mem’ory and a name;
While the half-reasoner with the hand
 survives his rank and place to claim.