Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Gitanjali : ( No. 50)

I had gone a-begging from door to door in the
village path when thy golden chariot appeared in
the distance like a gorgeous dream and I wondered
who was the king of all kings!
My hopes rose high and I thought my evil days
were at an end, and I stood for alms to be
given unasked and for wealth scattered on all sides
in the dust.
The chariot stopped where I stood. Thy glance
fell on me and thou camest down with a smile, I felt
that the luck of my life had come at last. Then
of a sudden thou didst hold out thy right hand
and say "Why hast thou to give me?"
Ah, what a kingly jest was it to open thy palm
to a beggar to beg ! I was confused and stood
undecided and then from my wallet I slowly
took out the least little grain of corn and gave it to thee.
But how great my surprise when at the day's
end I emptied my bag on the floor to find a least
little grain of gold among the poor heap. I bitterly
wept and wished that I had had the heart to give
thee my all.

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