The astringent is for his feet.
Clean the cuts, apply the salve,
wrap, then tie the ends.
No walking or climbing at all
for a whole day at least.

Here is bread, a pear, a flask.
Try to feed him something.
He won’t let you, I know;
he wants to be pure, but try.
He needs all his strength.

The new four-stringed kinura
is for you, the long flute too,
the drum and tambourine.
Play for him. He likes it,
as do jackals at night.

They all come then: the snake                                                       and scorpion, wolf and lion,                                                    slinking hyena and boar.
They crouch and coil on stubble
while he tries to pray.

If from zeal he will not touch
the meal we are sending,
you may set it out for them.
They will approach and eat.
When he sees that they shine

in the pale green light of stars,
he will feel more like himself.
The beauty of beasts will stir
the hunger of his flesh.
He will suffer then, and love.