RARITY OF HUMILITY

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To be humble and never mumble,

Is a virtue rare and sweet.

For the gushing life-streams make us tumble,

And so, how often we grumble!

 

To remain humble whether there is sun or rain or dew,

Is an art mastered by, but a few.

 

Rich accolades and spacious mansions,

The jingle of gold and silver,

And a whole lot of gems in the quiver –

Rubies and pearls, diamonds and emeralds,

Rouse a chest full of clanging cymbals.

 

To remain humble whether there is sun or rain or dew,

Is an art mastered by, but a few.

               

Accomplishments and triumphs,

Children and family,

Power and position,

Respect and recognition,

Are all nothing but sheer vanity.

 

To remain humble whether there is sun or rain or dew,

Is an art mastered by, but a few.

               

A gentle reminder to the thoughtless wanderer –

 

With palms empty were you laid in the cradle,

And with palms empty you will mount the hearse.

 

What then is there to boast O merry pilgrim?

What to then raise a toast?

 

When the life breath is snuffed off this mortal body,

All that remains is a carcass shoddy.

 

               

So why this vain conceit and so much of haughty deceit ?

Wake up O slumberer,

Wake up to riches divine,

Sit not forever on this earthly goldmine.

 

The world and its gaiety will forever perish,

But, Heavenly riches shall you eternally relish.

 

Etch your treasure in humility,

Garb yourself with all nobility.

Stoop low to the needy,

Without expecting praises steady.

 

Silent sufferings, quiet servings,

Are all reward deserving,

That which has remained from every eye unseen,

From every ear unheard,

The imperishable rewards from Heaven’s treasure trove.

 

O! to remain humble whether there is sun or rain or dew,

Is an art mastered by, but a few.

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