Some say paradise is in the mountains;
They say, it is in the clear streams through which one can see the pebbles.
Pebbles which were beaten and bruised until they became graceful,
Elegant and smooth.
Some say paradise is in Buddha,
To know oneself, and in the peace one finds within
In the brotherhood of all men, and the universality of God
In a life free from the Wheel
But real paradise, is in
the cold room, barren, dark, closed.
In the winter, when the cold rain makes you shiver to your spine,
When hope is bleak, and you wish …
Wish for a life in the mountains
Wish for a life free from the wheel.