This robe, thus ripped, shall make
some girl a saffron dress.
I'll wrap this blessed rosary
for donkey?breath to bless,
around the butt?end of it's tail
that years of Buddhist bray.
Of counting beads and chanting prayers
may all be blown away.

For locked in a woman's arms
I've learnt this truth: that prayer
is waste of breath, just one more kind
of air blown out on air.

(Chong Shoi)