I lived on the shady side of the road and watched my neighbours’
gardens across the way reveling in the sunshine.
I felt I was poor, and from door to door went with my hunger.
The more they gave me from their careless abundance
the more I became aware of my beggar’s bowl.
Till one morning I awoke from my sleep at the sudden opening of my door,
and you came and asked for alms.
In despair I broke the lid of my chest open and
was startled into finding my own wealth.
Rabindranath Tagore was a prolific playwright, novelist, and poet, winner of the 1913 Nobel Prize for Literature (1861-1941).
Because they crowd the corner of every city street, because they are the color of…
I sent him from home hardly more than a child. Years later, he came back…
So many colors abandon the earth, and go skyward to the trees like origami birds,…
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