The pilgrims set out on all sides,
Across oceans, climbing mountains, treading pathless grounds...
Some from the land of the Nile and some
from the banks of the Ganges,
From the snow-decked plateau of Tibet,
Marching through the royal gates of walls protecting cities,
Making their way through a tangle of creepers in a forest.
Some on their feet, some on camels, or horses or elephants,
Some flowing their banner of Chinese silk.
Priests of various faiths came burning incense
and chanting hymns.
Came kings, the spearheads of their sentinels blazing in the sun,
War-drums pealing like thunder-bolts.
Came monks in tattered loin-clothes
And counsellors of princes
clad in gorgeous and golden brocades.
Young students nimble in their gait
Advanced, jostling professors slow-paced under the weight
of their wisdom and their age.
Livening up with laughter, women went :
some mothers, some spinsters, and some wives,
Carrying on their salvers white sandalwood paste
and perfumes in their water-cans.
Came also prostitutes with shrill voice
And gaudy in their make-up.
Invalids came, came lame and blind and sick men,
And religion-mongers dressed like saints,
Those, whose commerce is to sell God from mart to mart.
Fulfilment !
Stating nothing distinctly they keep on explaining the term
Attaching a noble name and a great price to their covetousness
And create a false paradise with their infinite impunity in stealing
And their tireless hankering for clay-sullied human flesh.