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[15]
While townsfolk marvelled at his words, Their hearts were sore and sad, Some thought him over-confident, While others thought him mad.
"Well, Sire ! if you must go the way Others have gone before you, You'll go--but we are sorry for That mother's womb which bore you!" Initiate Mahavir went Brimming with inspiration, To give the serpent, thing of hate, Love's high initiation. The instant that he set his foot Along the route of danger, He heard the serpent hiss and say : “You shall be stricken, Stranger !"
But Mahavir, unruffled, said : "Compassion floods my pores To meet you and to greet you, since I am a friend of yours." The serpent hissed a twisted flame, His eyes went rolling red: "You are a stranger, you are not A friend of mine....” he said.
"Go back to there from where you came, Your presence drives me mad. To linger longer here is death: I've nothing more to add.
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