Arthashastra - Kautilya (The King)

It's never that easy to be a king
And rule a populace;
For popularity's a fickle thing
Which might easily gobble us.

A king must always make it clear
That in his realm he's boss;
Nobody else, though near and dear,
May inflict on him a loss.

A king must always show his might
Even 'gainst kith and kin;
It doesn't matter if he's right
But he must be seen to win.

There's not much point in being strong
If no one sees your strength;
A tiger shows power all along
His striped and muscular length.

Any weakness must be concealed
As a tortoise hides his head;
A king must never be revealed
Quaking under his bed.

Stealth and discretion are the means
To employ in making plans;
A clever king, though, never leans
In trust on another man's.

Pretend! Conceal! Find out! Mistrust!
These are the vital things;
Maintain a cheerful outer crust
But permit no rival kings.

Keep your intentions to yourself
Don't reveal them on your face;
Purchase silence with your pelf
And pack a knife(in case).

Give orders only when you're sure
Of their effective execution;
Make certain you are seen as pure
-Innocent of persecution.

Eradicate the slightest threat!
Don't forget the thinnest thorn
Embedded in your flesh, might yet
Fester; and this I warn:

A small spark can start a forest fire-
No enemy's too minor-
Before the danger gets too dire
Don't make the fine points finer

There never is a genuine need
To issue an ultimatum;
Before a rival does the deed-
Simply eliminate him.

Do it sharp, and do it quick!
But never let him catch on.
(To be safe, keep a big stout stick
And always sleep with the latch on.)

Dissimulate! When angry, smile;
Speak soft; then strike to kill;
Then weep-oh, never show your bile-
And mourn your victim still.

Amass all the wealth you can;
Cash, jewels, humans too;
Resources are needed for every plan,
And any means will do.

Remember it's said a crooked stick
Serves just as well as a straight one
When it's fruit from a tree you wish to pick
(An early plum, or a later one).

So employ your own crooked men
To gather information;
From the market and the gambling den
Let them take the pulse of the nation.

Regarding enemies, I only wish
You'd learn from the fisherman's book;
He traps and slits and strips his fish,
And burns what he dosent cook.

That's the only way to treat all those
Who pose a threat to you;
They may genuflect, and touch your toes-
But don't let them get you.

This of the future; it's time to start
To anticipate the threat;
If you don't grow callouses on your heart
You might just bleed to death.


-Arthashastra