I called the Navab's wine blood, the painted whore a corpse, and the king a pauper. I attacked Alexander with insults, and denounced the so-called great souls. The lowly I have raised on the bridge of praise to the seventh heaven. Your learned pandit is my great fool, your heaven my hell, your gold my iron, friend! Your piety my sin. Where you see yourself as brilliant I find you a dolt. Your rise, friend-my decline. That's the way our values are mixed up, friend! Your whole world is a hair to me. Oh yes, friend, I'm moonstruck through and through- moonstruck! That's just the way I am.

I see the blind man as the people's guide, the ascetic in his cave a deserter; those who act in the theater of lies I see as dark buffoons. Those who fail I find successful, and progress only backsliding. am I squint-eyed, Or just crazy? Friend, I'm crazy. Look at the withered tongues of shameless leaders, The dance of the whores At breaking the backbone on the people's rights. When the sparrow-headed newsprint spreads its black lies In a web of falsehood

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You're clever, quick with words, your exact equations are right forever and ever. But in my arithmetic, take one from one- and there's still one left. You get along with five senses, I with a sixth. You have a brain, friend, I have a heart. A rose is just a rose to you- to me it's Helen and Padmini. You are forceful prose I liquid verse. When you freeze I melt, When you're clear I get muddled and then it works the other way around. Your world is solid, mine vapor, yours coarse, mine subtle. You think a stone reality; harsh cruelty is real for you. I try to catch a dream, the way you grasp the rounded truth of cold, sweet coin.

In the fields of life there isn't any geometry. Here if whole is taken out from the whole then whole itself remains. Inside one is substance, inside atom is the world. Science cannot find everything and our psychological studies end within the darkness of intellect. This is why no teacher can teach.