Those who believe in Mohammed, Those - in Allah, those - in Jesus,
Those who don’t believe in anything, Even in Satan, to spite them all,
A good religion has been made up by the Hindus:
That when we reach the end, We do not die for good.

Upwards strived your soul,
To be born again with a dream,
But if you lived like a swine,
A swine you will stay.

Let them stare suspiciously, Get used to disapproval,
Annoyingly - well, you might be born again to mock others yourself.
And if you saw your enemy’s death While still in this life
In another you’ll be given a true keen eye.

Live yourself a normal life,
There’s reason to be happy:
After all, perhaps, in the boss
Your soul will move inside.

 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 

Let yourself live as a janitor, You’ll be born again a foreman,
and from a foreman into a minister you will grow,
But if you’re dumb as wood - you’ll be born a baobab
And a baobab you’ll be a thousand years until you die.

It’s a shame to live as a parrot,
A viper with a long lifespan,
Isn’t it better to have been
in life a decent man?!

So who is who, so who was who? We will never ever know.
Who was nothing, becomes everything, You should think about it!
It could be, that shabby cat, Before was a scoundrel,
And this dear person here Before was a kindly hound.

I jump up with delight,
I get around temptations,
A comfortable religion
Was made up by the Hindus!