Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
THREE MONKS Morning sunbeams danced on the ripples Sparkling on the majestic flow of Mother Ganga. Noisy crowds of pious pilgrims from all corners, Pestered by ash-smeared, bargaining priests, Rushed towards the sacred waters for a holy bath , In a hurry to wash off their numerous sins And save themselves from Yamadharma's* wrath. Three solemn-looking monks in saffron robes, Moved briskly past the motley crowds, Looking for a less noisy, cleaner spot. At a distance, they saw a colourful launch, Carrying pilgrims across the vast expanse, When, all of a sudden, the launch tumbled And scrambling pilgrims, in panic jumped Into the river flowing fast over hidden rocks. Seeing their desperate struggle, the surprised monks Took a hasty plunge and swam towards the sinking launch And pulled some of them towards the sandy shore, While one of the sturdy monks carried on his back, A woman clinging to the side, breathing hard And left her after she recovered composure. Resuming their walk along the river bank, Two of the monks appeared rather grim and cold. Breaking their solemn silence, the frowning monks Called their companion a big sinner For he had carried a young woman on his back. Unperturbed, the robust monk said with a smile, Although he had carried a drowning woman on his back, He had left her safely on the river bank While the scolding monks carried her still in their minds And they hardly knew what detachment meant ! Startled and rudely awakened, the two monks Prostrated before Vivekananda, the awe-inspiring saint! *********** M.G.Narasimha Murthy *Name of the God of Death in Indian mythology.
0
Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 11:26 PM UTC
THREE MONKS
THREE MONKS Morning sunbeams danced on the ripples Sparkling on the majestic flow of Mother Ganga. Noisy crowds of pious pilgrims from all corners, Pestered by ash-smeared, bargaining priests, Rushed towards the sacred waters for a holy bath , In a hurry to wash off their numerous sins And save themselves from Yamadharma's* wrath. Three solemn-looking monks in saffron robes, Moved briskly past the motley crowds, Looking for a less noisy, cleaner spot. At a distance, they saw a colourful launch, Carrying pilgrims across the vast expanse, When, all of a sudden, the launch tumbled And scrambling pilgrims, in panic jumped Into the river flowing fast over hidden rocks. Seeing their desperate struggle, the surprised monks Took a hasty plunge and swam towards the sinking launch And pulled some of them towards the sandy shore, While one of the sturdy monks carried on his back, A woman clinging to the side, breathing hard And left her after she recovered composure. Resuming their walk along the river bank, Two of the monks appeared rather grim and cold. Breaking their solemn silence, the frowning monks Called their companion a big sinner For he had carried a young woman on his back. Unperturbed, the robust monk said with a smile, Although he had carried a drowning woman on his back, He had left her safely on the river bank While the scolding monks carried her still in their minds And they hardly knew what detachment meant ! Startled and rudely awakened, the two monks Prostrated before Vivekananda, the awe-inspiring saint! *********** M.G.Narasimha Murthy *Name of the God of Death in Indian mythology.
Swami Vivekananda (1863-1902), disciple of Ramakrishna Paramahamsa, founded the famous Ramakrishna Math at Kolkata in,1 Swami Vivekananda (1863-1902), disciple of Ramakrishna Paramahamsa, founded the famous Ramakrishna Math at Kolkata in 18609. In his most inspiring speech at the World Parliament of Religions at Chicago in 1893, he emphasized the oneness of the teachings of all great religions and worked for the good of mankind.
Written by
Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 11:26 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem