I was old and at the end of

my life.  the pupils I had taught

for years came to me, to my side, from all

over the land.  they asked me what they

could do to ease my suffering.  could they

wet my lips or shift my

bedding?  I asked them to hear what I had to

say.  they took their hands out of

their ears and

I began to cry.  it was all I could

do to stop from

blaspheming our

leader, the great captain of

the rains.