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 this King of all Kings!
My hopes rose high and i thought my evil days were at an end, and I stood waiting 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 thy right hand and say, "What hast thou to give to 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.
Excerpt from Rabindranath Tagore's Gitanjali -- An offering of Songs
