Would that by Hindu magic we became Dark monks of jeweled India long ago, Sitting at Prince Siddartha`s feet to know The foolishness of gold and love and station, The gospel of the Great Renunciation, The ragged cloak, the staff, the rain and sun, The beggar`s life, with far Nirvana gleaming: Lord, make us Buddhas, dreaming.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
The script ran 0.001 seconds.