Once a monk lived in a village
A bird excreted on his head
For his fury it fell dead
The monk felt very sad
He went to a house for food
The wife was at her husband’s bed
The monk cried for many a time
The woman came after some time
The sage looked at her with a great rage
She said, ”I am not a bird to be burnt
by your fury. For a wife her husband
is the best jury”. He begged her pardon
She advised the sage to meet
a righteous man at a certain place
The monk was taken aback to see his face
He was only an ignorant butcher
The butcher said to the monk
“My profession is to sell meat
Which even for my feast I don’t eat
One should do one’s duty”
The monk had a great revelation
Which he hadn’t in a hundred years’ meditation
He learnt to control his angry emotion
And blessed the woman for his salvation
Jan 2, 2011
Jan 2, 2011 at 5:41 PM UTC
Once a monk lived in a village
A bird excreted on his head
For his fury it fell dead
The monk felt very sad
He went to a house for food
The wife was at her husband’s bed
The monk cried for many a time
The woman came after some time
The sage looked at her with a great rage
She said, ”I am not a bird to be burnt
by your fury. For a wife her husband
is the best jury”. He begged her pardon
She advised the sage to meet
a righteous man at a certain place
The monk was taken aback to see his face
He was only an ignorant butcher
The butcher said to the monk
“My profession is to sell meat
Which even for my feast I don’t eat
One should do one’s duty”
The monk had a great revelation
Which he hadn’t in a hundred years’ meditation
He learnt to control his angry emotion
And blessed the woman for his salvation
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