43779.fb2 Shapes of Clay - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 130

Shapes of Clay - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 130

THE GOD'S VIEW-POINT.

  Cheeta Raibama Chunder Sen,  The wisest and the best of men,  Betook him to the place where sat  With folded feet upon a mat  Of precious stones beneath a palm,  In sweet and everlasting calm,  That ancient and immortal gent,  The God of Rational Content.  As tranquil and unmoved as Fate,  The deity reposed in state,  With palm to palm and sole to sole,  And beaded breast and beetling jowl,  And belly spread upon his thighs,  And costly diamonds for eyes.  As Chunder Sen approached and knelt  To show the reverence he felt;  Then beat his head upon the sod  To prove his fealty to the god;  And then by gestures signified  The other sentiments inside;  The god's right eye (as Chunder Sen,  The wisest and the best of men,  Half-fancied) grew by just a thought  More narrow than it truly ought.  Yet still that prince of devotees,  Persistent upon bended knees  And elbows bored into the earth,  Declared the god's exceeding worth,  And begged his favor. Then at last,  Within that cavernous and vast  Thoracic space was heard a sound  Like that of water underground—  A gurgling note that found a vent  At mouth of that Immortal Gent  In such a chuckle as no ear  Had e'er been privileged to hear!  Cheeta Raibama Chunder Sen,  The wisest, greatest, best of men,  Heard with a natural surprise  That mighty midriff improvise.  And greater yet the marvel was  When from between those massive jaws  Fell words to make the views more plain  The god was pleased to entertain:  "Cheeta Raibama Chunder Sen,"  So ran the rede in speech of men—  "Foremost of mortals in assent  To creed of Rational Content,  Why come you here to impetrate  A blessing on your scurvy pate?  Can you not rationally be  Content without disturbing me?  Can you not take a hint—a wink—  Of what of all this rot I think?  Is laughter lost upon you quite,  To check you in your pious rite?  What! know you not we gods protest  That all religion is a jest?  You take me seriously?—you  About me make a great ado  (When I but wish to be alone)  With attitudes supine and prone,  With genuflexions and with prayers,  And putting on of solemn airs,  To draw my mind from the survey  Of Rational Content away!  Learn once for all, if learn you can,  This truth, significant to man:  A pious person is by odds  The one most hateful to the gods."  Then stretching forth his great right hand,  Which shadowed all that sunny land,  That deity bestowed a touch  Which Chunder Sen not overmuch  Enjoyed—a touch divine that made  The sufferer hear stars! They played  And sang as on Creation's morn  When spheric harmony was born.  Cheeta Raibama Chunder Sen,  The most astonished man of men,  Fell straight asleep, and when he woke  The deity nor moved nor spoke,  But sat beneath that ancient palm  In sweet and everlasting calm.