A deer has nine different colors in its fur,
It saves a man’s life,
Wants almost nothing in return.
Only that the human would keep it a secret,
To be discreet,
Not to gossip about it.
But the human cannot prevail,
Gold, land and power avail.
A man has a dream about the deer,
He describes the fur to the king,
The king wants the fur for his daughter.
He offers half his kingdom,
The man who was saved,
Who had made one promise,
Could not keep it.
It is a story from India,
Told in Dunhuang,
Painted alongside murals,
Which lead to messages,
Both singular and plural.
The human did not value the animal,
As much as he valued humanity.
He quickly forgot his promise,
When promised something greater.
He betrayed the deer,
Then fell ill,
Passing away.
He held what he gained,
For a few mere days,
Until he would join the gases of the world.
Becoming Nitrogen,
In the fields,
Where more deer would graze.