Thursday, January 1, 2004
Playthings Comments
Rating: ★2.8
Child, how happy you are sitting in the dust, playing with a broken twig all the morning.
I smile at your play with that little bit of a broken twig.
I am busy with my accounts, adding up figures by the hour.
Perhaps you glance at me and think, "What a stupid game to spoil your morning with!"
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20 February 2019
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7/29/2025 5:34:45 AM # 1.0.0
A very interesting poem. The innocent child is one with nature and is happy and carefree. While the man is so desirous and materialistic, that he can no more be happy. Only Gurudev could infuse deep philosophy into his poetic expressions.......10