Poor little fly upon my window pane,I'll try to help you find your way outside.
Your efforts to be free go all in vain,
Although I've opened up my window wide.
It must be Nature's law that's locked you in.
Your karma makes you land on solid glass,
For though we both may try, we cannot win.
The truth I've read in scripture comes to pass.
Does not this world confine us to a role?
What use this toil and strife for worldly gain?
Man does no more his destiny control
Than this poor fly upon my window pane.
The road to freedom lies another way:
Chant Hare Krishna, go back home, and stay.
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