The gardner had not yet dug out the radish, when the beggar held the alms-bowl in front of him.
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The gardener had not yet dug out the radish, when the beggar held the alms-bowl in front of him.
I know that a man who shows me his wealth is like the beggar who shows me his poverty; they are both looking for alms from me, the rich man for the alms of my envy, the poor man for the alms of my guilt.
Away The Bowl
Our grateful hearts with temperance burn,
Away, away the bowl,
From dram shops all, our steps we turn,
Away, away the bowl;
Farewell to rum and all its harms,
Farewell the wine-cup's boasted charms,
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
See how that staggering drunkard reels!
Away, away the bowl;
Alas, the misery he reveals,
Away, away the bowl;
His children grieve, his wife's in tears!
How sad his once bright home appears!
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
We drink no more, nor buy nor sell,
Away, away the bowl!
The grog-shop's offers we repel,
Away, away the bowl.
United in a temperance band,
We 're joined in heart, we 're joined in hand,
Away the bowl, away the bowl, away, away the bowl.
poem by John Pierpont
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A beggar himself, can he afford to have one asking for alms at his door?
The Beggar To Mab, The Fairy Queen
Please your Grace, from out your store
Give an alms to one that's poor,
That your mickle may have more.
Black I'm grown for want of meat,
Give me then an ant to eat,
Or the cleft ear of a mouse
Over-sour'd in drink of souce;
Or, sweet lady, reach to me
The abdomen of a bee;
Or commend a cricket's hip,
Or his huckson, to my scrip;
Give for bread, a little bit
Of a pease that 'gins to chit,
And my full thanks take for it.
Flour of fuz-balls, that's too good
For a man in needy-hood;
But the meal of mill-dust can
Well content a craving man;
Any orts the elves refuse
Well will serve the beggar's use.
But if this may seem too much
For an alms, then give me such
Little bits that nestle there
In the pris'ner's pannier.
So a blessing light upon
You, and mighty Oberon;
That your plenty last till when
I return your alms again.
poem by Robert Herrick
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put your alms for the beggar
to appease his hunger
God’s needs not money
quote by by John Celes
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Lord Buddha begged.
The society has more thieves than beggars.
In a way, beggars are better than thieves.
They beg but steal not and get but usurp not.
Mortgaging their ego, they are begging.
It is easy to steal but hard to beg.
Give or not, don’t treat beggars with contempt.
Do treat them at par while you give them alms.
Feel elated while you offer them alms.
While giving, dispel their humiliation.
Lord Buddha too led His life as a beggar.
19.10.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The blind beggar girl
The blind beggar girl
Sings and prays asking for alms
In the downtown lanes
poem by Asif Andalib
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A Poor Beggar's Rich Ambition!
Have you seen me slouch on the pavements,
With donated imported blanket?
loyal Companion dogs not covered,
I am flawlessly groomed and shunned.
I never exposed my face and feet,
The emptied alms bowl is kept empty,
Could you hear the feeble voice,
Comes through the gaps for a pounding click.
And trading the mercy for you,
Holding the melting chocolate hearts,
Smelling the wilting bouquet of thoughts,
Clasping the ticket to the entrance,
Where the happiness ends in despair.
Look at me, Ladies and Gentlemen,
I bend my backbone to the floor,
For you to donate me a favor in November,
Then I rise up to show you, my face,
I am a beggar of convenient desire and votes.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Show-Piece
Behold! knees curled up to his chin
Head down, his empty bowl shaken
Fatigued and languished with weary mind
On penniless status for his bread...
Pity, even unaware of somebody playing upon
Poor beggar, a pose of hapless repose
An act of begging on loss
But an utility for a sculptor behind
The chisel shaping up poverty well formed
Benefitted is the sculptor in bucks
Soiled emotions to the beggar glue
His concaved belly nothing to pursue
Unnoticeably trespassed the sculptor to crop
A faint sitting target artistically on whop
Sold off by re-makes, the sculptor's ooh!
In a rich man's house seated respectfully
Is the pauper carved carefully
Out of a heavy stone looking meaningfully
With unshaken bowl for pennies hopefully!
poem by Indira Renganathan
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The Spaewife
OH, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
Why chops are guid to brander and nane sae guid to fry.
An’ siller, that ’s sae braw to keep, is brawer still to gi’e.
It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says the beggar-wife to me.
Oh, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
Hoo a’things come to be whaur we find them when we try,
The lasses in their claes an’ the fishes in the sea.
It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says the beggar-wife to me.
Oh, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
Why lads are a’ to sell an’lasses a’ to buy;
An’ naebody for dacency but barely twa or three.
It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says the beggar-wife to me.
Oh, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
Gin death’s as shure to men as killin’ is to kye,
Why God has filled the yearth sae fu’ o’ tasty things to pree.
It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says the beggar-wife to me.
Oh, I wad like to ken—to the beggar-wife says I—
The reason o’ the cause an’ the wherefore o’ the why,
Wi’ mony anither riddle brings the tear into my e’e.
It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says the beggar-wife to me.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Upon TheBegger
He wants, he asks, he pleads his poverty,
They within doors do him an alms deny.
He doth repeat and aggravate his grief,
But they repulse him, give him no relief.
He begs, they say, Begone; he will not hear,
But coughs, sighs, and makes signs he still is there;
They disregard him, he repeats his groans;
They still say nay, and he himself bemoans.
They grow more rugged, they call him vagrant;
He cries the shriller, trumpets out his want.
At last, when they perceive he'll take no nay,
An alms they give him without more delay.
Comparison.
This beggar doth resemble them that pray
To God for mercy, and will take no nay,
But wait, and count that all his hard gainsays
Are nothing else but fatherly delays;
Then imitate him, praying souls, and cry:
There's nothing like to importunity.
poem by John Bunyan
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The Disgarded Garden
Their once was a young man who wanted to become a Gardner. There once was a young Rose Tree that wanted a Gardener. They met each other one summer day and began what seemed to be a beautiful relationship. The Gardner was attentive of his garden along with his Rose Tree and the Rose Tree was so happy that its tender branches grew and it bloomed continuously for the Gardner so he’d always be happy.
As time went by the Rose Tree noticed that Gardner wouldn’t tend to her as much as he once did. And when he did he would cut away harshly at the Rose Tree. The Rose Tree being a simple plant who did not need much attention still bloomed for the Gardner. It seemed the more she tried, the more the Gardner would cut away and the tree was now nestled in the ground. Why could this be? He had a bountiful garden that any Gardner would have loved to have. What more could anyone want thought the Rose Tree.
Now in an abandoned garden the Rose Tree grows back its branches, with very thick thorn’s to protect it self. As time goes by one day, out of nowhere appears a Gardener who has silently admired the Rose Tree from outside the garden gates and begins to nurture the Rose Tree in her garden. He tenderly and sympathetically pulls away all the weeds and brush from the Rose Tree so the air, rain & sunshine can reach her again. Allowing her the opportunity to grow back as she once was; vibrant, strong, colorful and to be simply, herself.
This is something the Rose Tree had long forgotten and is very grateful for the loving words of encouragement and kindness that her new Gardner has shown. She longingly awaits for his visits and when the Gardner comes to see her she bloom’s for him and relaxes underneath his beautifully kind smile. My darling Gardner, I am glad fate has brought you to walk along the path leading to the once lost garden and Rose Tree.
poem by Sarah Barron
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Momentary slips
A woman sedated by her husband,
Like alms looking for a begging bowl,
Seeks for her a receptacle in secret,
And accept it when it strikes by chance.
26.11.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Beggar To Beggar Cried
'TIME to put off the world and go somewhere
And find my health again in the sea air,'
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
'And make my soul before my pate is bare.-
'And get a comfortable wife and house
To rid me of the devil in my shoes,'
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
'And the worse devil that is between my thighs.'
And though I'd marry with a comely lass,
She need not be too comely -- let it pass,'
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
'But there's a devil in a looking-glass.'
'Nor should she be too rich, because the rich
Are driven by wealth as beggars by the itch,'
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
'And cannot have a humorous happy speech.'
'And there I'll grow respected at my ease,
And hear amid the garden's nightly peace.'
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
'The wind-blown clamour of the barnacle-geese.'
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Twins, The
``Give'' and ``It-shall-be-given-unto-you.''
I.
Grand rough old Martin Luther
Bloomed fables---flowers on furze,
The better the uncouther:
Do roses stick like burrs?
II.
A beggar asked an alms
One day at an abbey-door,
Said Luther; but, seized with qualms,
The abbot replied, ``We're poor!
III.
``Poor, who had plenty once,
``When gifts fell thick as rain:
``But they give us nought, for the nonce,
``And how should we give again?''
IV.
Then the beggar, ``See your sins!
``Of old, unless I err,
``Ye had brothers for inmates, twins,
``Date and Dabitur.
V.
``While Date was in good case
``Dabitur flourished too:
``For Dabitur's lenten face
``No wonder if Date rue.
VI.
``Would ye retrieve the one?
``Try and make plump the other!
``When Date's penance is done,
``Dabitur helps his brother.
VII.
``Only, beware relapse!''
The Abbot hung his head.
This beggar might be perhaps
An angel, Luther said.
poem by Robert Browning
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The Twins
"Give" and "It-shall-be-given-unto-you"
I
Grand rough old Martin Luther
Bloomed fables-flowers on furze,
The better the uncouther:
Do roses stick like burrs?
II
A beggar asked an alms
One day at an abbey-door,
Said Luther; but, seized with qualms,
The abbot replied, "We're poor!"
III
"Poor, who had plenty once,
When gifts fell thick as rain:
But they give us nought, for the nonce,
And now should we give again?"
IV
Then the beggar, "See your sins!
Of old, unless I err,
Ye had brothers for inmates, twins,
Date and Dabitur.
V
"While Date was in good case
Dabitur flourished too:
For Dabitur's lenten face
No wonder if Date rue.
VI
"Would ye retrieve the one?
Try and make plump the other!
When Date's penance is done,
Dabitur helps his brother.
VII
"Only, beware relapse!"
The Abbot hung his head.
This beggar might be perhaps
An angel, Luther said.
poem by Robert Browning from Men and Women (1855)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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start of day
the beggar throws some coins
into own begging bowl
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Alms
Yes
Today
I will
Give her alms
But only
If she asked
Which she always did
Mysterious cruelty
Not a single glance
As she passed
Hands full of alms
No
Alms full of hands
Yes, My, My hands.
poem by Sanjay Mehta
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Who is a beggar and who is not
Take your coin, I am no beggar
In our country
Beggars are less uncommon
They are there anywhere
Except
Cemeteries
Burial ground and
Cremation yard
They beg you so pathetically
That you are forced to dropp a coin
Pavements invariably
Irrespective of the city
House beggars
You can make out them
By the way they look
Women beg
Pointing to us the little child
They carry on their waist
Old ladies too beg
And they station themselves
Against you in your path
Making it difficult for you
To step ahead further
While you are on a wait
Either bus stop
Rail station
Park or beach
Some one or the other appear before you
Begging
Truly speaking
It hurts me to turn away someone
Asking for alms
Without getting them something
Some hold the view
That they need not help beggars
As they are not the one
Who made beggars beg
Begging should be discouraged
And to do that
Beggars should not be helped
Is some others’ view point
I am not quite sure
Whether to help beggars or not
I normally dropp a coin of least denomination
In the begging bowl or in the opened up palms of a beggar
Provided I have the coin
If I do not have a coin to part with
Or if I do not have the mind to help
I muster the strength
To tell the beggar
That I have no changes to spare
This morning
I was rushing to the office
After getting down from the bus
I saw a middle aged male
Who was rolling down on the tar topped road
Sitting on roller-fixed wooden plank
Pushing with the help of has hands
It appeared he had no legs
I decided to help him with a coin
As I got nearer
I came to understand that he was polio affected
Both his legs becoming non functional
Of late, thin and feeble
I ran my hand through my left pant pocket
Got hold of a coin of a better denomination
Than the one I normally prefer to drop
Stood by his side
As he was enjoying a puff of a lighted cigarette
On his lips
He did not lift his face
Having waited for some seconds
I decided to dropp that coin
I did the same
And started going towards office
I heard the rolling of wheels
When I looked back
The person on the wheel-fixed plank
Pointed his right index finger
Towards the dropped coin
About four metres on the backside
And said curtly
Take your coin
I am no beggar
As I reached the spot
And picked up the coin
I felt too small of me
And in fact, beg for the knowledge
As to know
Who is a beggar and who is not
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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