Beggars

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Coming to think of it, who is not a beggar?

Or at least, who has not been a beggar?

Today, as children, we beg our parents.

Tomorrow as parents, we beg our children.

I’ve been a beggar all my life.

 

Yet, only those with a plate in their hands,

Standing under the open sky,

Scorched by the helpless Sun,

Their pleas floating softly down the city drains,

Seem to show the humility assumed of all beggars.

25th April 1996

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