“There’s nothing in the store today,
The Indus rose and washed away
The grain we might have gathered in
Had we been pure and free from sin.”

“Why would you think like that, my son?
You’re but a child, and how could one
So small and innocent as you
Imagine such a thing is true?”

“Because our God is very good
And would not steal the children’s food,
It follows that I must be bad
To be deprived of all I had.”

“Not you my child, but all mankind
Has nature’s bounty so maligned,
And the poison that is dripping in
Is certainly a kind of sin –

But not one you could understand,
The rape and pillage of the land,
The exploitation of resources,
The tampering with nature’s forces.

But the harvest that is washed away
Or burnt, or parched or rotted may
Yet be a warning we can heed,
To stem the tide of endless greed.”