The river flowed at his feet, <br />Giving him a choice, <br />To either live or perish. <br />Turning away, he would choose life, <br />But entering it, he would death... <br /> <br /> But the waters, slow-footed, flowed away, <br />And he knew his sorrow to be ephemeral. <br />That too would flow away, irrevocable.... <br />This philosophy well learnt, <br />He stept back; he chose life.<br /><br />Krishnarasa Seshadri<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-river-38/
