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The Best Service

O! Friends, where have gone the old preachings,
Of the divine prophets and of the saints teachings?

Why has Man averted His eyes, His heart and face,
And has followed the direction that leads to disgrace?

Why has Man made gods, Money, Silver and Gold
To the Eternal Enemy He very cheap His soul has sold?

Why does He worship them chasing His perdition,
Against the voice of conscience, Divine Admonition?

Why does He usurp and snatch the rights and shares,
Of others, making the world a muddle full of cares?
No prophet and no celestial book will now descend,
Then who is, the responsibilities, the duties to attend?

Allow not Man to advance to the zone dismal, dark;
Where the loins growl, the wolves howl, the dogs bark.

The Crazy Artist a horrible picture of the world paints;
Time calls forth, the poets, the men of letters, the saints.

For the best service to the blind is to lend him eyes;
Breathe forth your breath into his mouth when he dies.

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