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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  Rabindranath Tagore

Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

The Gift

Rabindranath Tagore

From “Narratives”

SANATAN was telling his beads by the Ganges when a Brahmin in rags came to him and said, “Help me, I am poor!”

“My alms-bowl is all that is my own,” said Sanatan. “I have given away everything I had.”

“But my lord Shiva came to me in my dreams,” said the Brahmin, “and counselled me to come to you.”

When suddenly Sanatan remembered he had picked up a stone of priceless value from the pebbles on the banks of the river, and thinking that someone might need it had hid it in the sands.

He pointed out the spot to the Brahmin, who dug up the stone and was surprised.

The Brahmin sat on the earth and mused alone till the sun went down behind the trees, and cowherds went home with their cattle.

Then he rose and came slowly to Sanatan and said, “Master, give me the least fraction of that wealth that disdains the wealth of all the world.”

And he threw away the gem into the water.