It happens pigs eat the flesh of dead men;
Men eat the pig-gut sausages, contrariwise.
Pigs do not seem to mind the human stink;
Men, conversely, say pork smells sweet.
When pigs die men toss them into the water;
When men die they are buried in the ground.
If could it be that they never eat one another,
A lotus would sprout up even in boiling broth.
Ron