They linger at shrines far longer than school,
Unlearned they rise as shamans, at shrines they rule.
Too weak to walk to hospital or class,
They mount a horse through rugged paths, at shrines they pass.
Patients with thirst, with fever, with pain,
No cure in the chants, yet at shrines they remain.
The shaman’s decree commands the whole land,
Every hour, every moment, at shrines they stand.
Where laughter and pleasure are sought in excess,
Blind faith weighs heavy—at shrines they rest.
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