“Living Graves”
Kripa-Maya Prabhu shared this poem during his most recent Bhagavatam class, and it was pretty striking to say the least
In the always noble effort of sharing, here is the whole poem for you.
Living Graves
By George Bernard Shaw
(1856-1950)
We are the living graves of murdered beasts,
Slaughtered to satisfy our appetites.
We never pause to wonder at our feasts,
If animals, like men, can possibly have rights.
We pray on Sundays that we may have light,
To guide our footsteps on the path we tread.
We’re sick of War, we do not want to fight –
The thought of it now fills our hearts with dread,
And yet – we gorge ourselves upon the dead.
Like carrion crows, we live and feed on meat,
Regardless of the suffering and pain
We cause by doing so, if thus we treat
Defenseless animals for sport or gain,
How can we hope in this world to attain
The PEACE we say we are so anxious for.
We pray for it, o’er hecatombs of slain,
To God, while outraging the moral law.
Thus cruelty begets its offspring – WAR
This poem used to be recited at the end of the street play. The Butcher’s Nightmare.
George Bernard Shaw is worth looking into for his outspoken and philosophical presentations far ahead of his time.