Sudama’s Penury

All that I have are four fistfuls of borrowed rice,
Fried, neat , packed in tatters, hid dark with dice,
In exchange for these, I hope to borrow some wealth,
Some relief from this frail but famished, hungered health,
Never mind that I starve, am a wandering mendicant,
With this little wrapped move, now a subtle supplicant,
Penury benumbs me but , hold! My partner weeps,
In sorrow and hunger even as she dream sweeps,
I am thus forced by this insecurity to set out,
Seek my friend’s clout for some sudden bailout,
His embrace shames me, my tears hide my guilt,
Mortifying warmth gnaws deep, now love quilt,
Cannot beg from a friend, so I shall retreat,
To forgive me, I shall beseech and entreat.
Krishna, you read my blank mind, hear my silence,
As you wish away my poverty, I have no grievance.
Save that if you gift me everything,
To think of you, I am left with nothing.


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