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.
Related quotes
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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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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The undeserved merits
Battering the poor, one grows rich.
Having grown rich, to quill the guilt
One flatters the poor with alms
And earn merits undeserved.
19.10.06
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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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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 poor ones give their alms in a humble way, the rich man throws them down with contempt.
A great man.
He made his employees slaves,
Amassed wealth to lavish
On himself and family,
And sprayed alms on the poor.
16.02.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A beggar himself, can he afford to have one asking for alms at his door?
put your alms for the beggar
to appease his hunger
God’s needs not money
quote by by John Celes
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The gardener had not yet dug out the radish, when the beggar held the alms-bowl in front of him.
The gardner had not yet dug out the radish, when the beggar held the alms-bowl in front of him.
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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In equal footings
I brought up two sons on equal footing
They grew in unequal size in wealth
The rich son limited his share to that
Of the other in giving me pension.
Yes, both bring me up in equal alms.
04.02.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The poor little boy
The poor little boy
Was mentally handicapped
And used to beg alms
poem by Asif Andalib
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Sonnet -Blessed are the Poor on Earth
Let discontented men, learn from the poor,
Who smile despite the anguish in their hearts;
Hard-working all their lives for bread, succor;
Yet, struggling always to improve their lots.
No job is mean but honesty matters;
The vagaries of life tease them so much;
And scarcely clothed, that too in such tatters;
They wait with patience for God's magic touch.
Yet, all the while, their faces wear big smiles;
Their hearts are moved by beggar's cries for alms;
Barefoot in Rain or Sun, they walk the miles;
Their hearts are soft but roughened are their palms.
The Gates of Heaven are open to them;
Their poverty becomes their diadem.
poem by John Celes
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