LECTURE 24
OF THE BODY AFTER THE DEPARTURE OF THE SOUL
Our body is nothing but a big waste after the soul’s departure. Once we die, it is given over to loathsome and deplorable plight. It reduces to nothing than a simple meal for the little worms and termites of the earth. The beauty of the flesh even fades the very moment we take our last gasp of air. Truly, our members do suffer a miserable woe once this vessel of clay comes crushing to the ground.
There in the chamber beneath, the eyes with which we are always desperate to see and lust after trifles will be shut in their sockets and covered in profound darkness.
The ears also, with which we are always curious to hear novelties and rejoice in defamatory discourses will be clogged with dust and repugnant maggots. There, the nostrils will be utterly ruined. The teeth and the jawbones which love to feast on sumptuous meals and assorted meats will fall out of their temples; the molars and the premolars, the canines and incisors altogether.
The lips which often delights in vain speeches and riddles will be destroyed by termites and caterpillars. Worms will fill every part of the belly and then crowd the throat.
The organs of sex, which are so desperate to fornicate and delight in vain pleasure, will rot away in utter disgust and shame. My friends, our waists will pine away and perish in repugnance.
Woman, where will thy perfect and tender breasts be? Where, thy sharp curves and hips wherewith thou excitest the libidinous of the weaker brethren? Where thy beauty, O fairest maiden, and where thy heavy behind which thou lovest to flaunt to the wretched sons of Adam? Oh Mothers, Mothers! When thou with bliss suckle thy little ones, please leave a little of thy milk for the pitiable termites below, for the breast will be theirs for eternity.
And for you man, what shall become of thy broad chest and thy packs, thy biceps and thy triceps wherewith thou inflamest passion in the vile daughters of Eve. Where thy sideburns and thy beard which thou lovest to trim and to garden?
Verily, I say unto you that, they ALL shall decay with repugnance. The worms would feast on curves and breasts, on muscles and nerves, on shapes and physiques, and on beauty and on glamour. It will simply enjoy human flesh with relish.
I really wonder what great meal we would be to the little ants of the earth when friends and family hurl us down to the grave. Though every member of the body may decay, blessed indeed is that man with a forgiving heart, a pitiful eye, a listening ear, an enduring feet, a charitable hand and an inspirational lips. Though these may rot in the grave, they provide a great incentive for the payment of heavenly premiums.
POOR SOUL
By William Shakespeare
Poor Soul, the centre of my sinful earth,
[Fool'd by] these rebel powers that thee array,
Why dost thou pine within and suffer death,
Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
Why so large cost, having so short a lease,
Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body's end?
Then, soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss,
And let that pine to aggravate thy store;
Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;
Within be fed, without be rich no more:
So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men,
And Death once dead, there's no more dying then.