And so it came to pass,
Simon, his lips fastened
on Vanni Amma's teat
drank long and deep
drew from the breast of the land
stories matured
in civilizational turn
of hunters and the hunted,
of judicial wisdom and error
the politics and poetics
of being and becoming,
insults and the insulted
humiliation and the humiliating
and with so many words said thus:
'thou art hunter, thou art bodistva
vasala and brahmana --
live as you will
in the Swarnavanni and sidadiya
in unclear and intertwined residency --
I do not judge nor comment.'
[Read also, 'For Simon']
