Siddhartha, one fine morn,
Was walking in the garden,
And saw a wounded swan
From the sky falling down.
Near the bird, he ran fast.
It was hit by an arrow shot.
When he pulled out the arrow,
He couldn’t control his sorrow.
Blood dripped from the wound,
As he took it from the ground,
With his silk scarf, he dressed it.
He felt, as if he was hurt.
By then, Devadatta, his cousin,
Came and claimed the swan,
“Well, I shot this swan.
So, give me, it’s mine.”
Siddhartha said, “No, I’ll not.
While I’m trying to save it,
You feel like killing it.
It’s no good on your part.”
“It belongs to the saver,
And not to the killer,
So, it’s mine, not yours.
I’ll not give you this.”
With a disappointed look,
The cousin went back.
The prince took care
Of the bird thereafter.
Later, he released the bird,
When it was fully cured.
It was the first occasion
What life was, he saw then.
No wonder, such a man
On this earth, was born
To save all suffering mass
Or even one life in distress.”
brought the scene to mind....purpose of bringing in devadatta his cousin by the king did not serve at all...siddarth was destined to become buddha...lovely sir
very nice. are these real stories from some religious book?
On the Onam day I am fortunate to read this episode; Maha Vishnu was instrumental in removing the arrogant Mahabali; At the same time Mahabali was a great king Life throws many contradictory and controversial things…. The divine drama is well depicted
a child with a kind heart...nothing in his mind except to save the loosers
finely penned........alike telling poem-story......beautiful 10+
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Who could read such a beauiful story and remain unmoved? It is gracefully and eloquently penned. Compassion is ageless. Like your gifted work. Always your friend, Sandra