Publishedat 23rd of May 2019 11:20:35 PMChapter 5


Once in a teahouse at the crossroads of caravan routes, a good campaign of experienced traders gathered . Each of them had something to tell and something to surprise . A modestly dressed merchant sat apart on the sidelines, savoring tea from an old and almost transparent bowl .

The wonderful aroma of the drink eloquently argued that, despite its appearance, this man was not at all as simple as it seemed . In the center of attention of those gathered was a young merchant in luxurious, but tasteless robes, boasting in front of all his exploits and success .

His story provoked exclamations of admiration of some and skeptical smiles of others . Suddenly, the general revival was interrupted by the not loud, but clear and clear voice of a modestly dressed merchant .

Do not lean out of the trench, or they will kill you, an old, kind saying based on life experience, "he said, addressing his young colleague .

I have seen many such naive and young maximalists, heroes with a fiery heart, geniuses of the generation of light and fire, all those who aspired to their truth, despite the formal foundations . . Able to go against the tide, abandon gold and quiet life, honor and glory they all gave to achieve their goals .

The truth for them was more expensive . So once happened to meet such a mischievous man from the underworld . True, it was not a man, but a dev, moreover with humor, a real esthete . Such people are not often seen . The find of the century!

Advertis.e.m.e.nt.i.t is true that he didn"t get much nuts, poets who know how to weave magical matter out of light and darkness, some are showered with money and honor, others wander in scanty lands and gnaw stones .

I saw him just in such lands . We are unpretentious merchants, walk-wander, look . . . the main thing is that it does not stand idle, money drips, new contacts and contacts are established, ways and markets are opened for the sale of our goods .

There was bad weather, I lagged behind the caravan as it sometimes happens . In search of shelter came upon a small cave . There he met him, a poet of the soul, who are also in the underworld .

Word for word, he told me his story . . .

In the underworld, the devas were scholars, it was necessary to pa.s.s a poem dedicated to wisdom to a.s.sess his abilities . Well, he wrote . . .

All judged the sage on the throne:

"There are no right friends among us,

But the good subject of the crown

To the right of all but me .

We will build a kingdom

According to the best samples .

I want everyone to believe it

Let the nightingale sing the words . . . "

Obedient thoughts

Air palaces spun . . .

Other thoughts, you know, be superfluous

Indeed, in the miracle-distance did not lead .

Do not think that the road is fast

All the prosperity will lead,

First you lose everything


Then you grow a soul . . .

And that, you know, the basis

All that is in the world

And not having tasted much grief,

How to ride more progress ?!

After reading, he was summoned to his main dev, praised, and then sent to explore the terrestrial world to study the emotions of people for a period of ten years . And on his return, if he remains alive, of course, he must write a new poem about wisdom . Then for this valiant work he was promised honor, glory and . . . forgiveness .

On that the merchant finished his story . And as for morality, draw your own conclusions, he remarked and left the teahouse . . .

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