At the Temple
Three little girls were on the temple-stair
Waiting for worship at the inner shrine;
Their tiny hands betrayed a hidden sign
Of weariness, devoid of strength to bear
Their wealth of luscious fruit and offerings rare—
But still they stood. “What shall the Gods assign
To crown your lives?” I asked, “what blessings fine
Will cheer with happiness your faces fair?”
“A mass of glittering jewels,” said one child,
“Bracelet and necklace, shining gold waistband
And pearl ear-drop.” “Fine robes of richest lace
And gayest foam-spun silk,” another willed.
The third, with head bent down and trembling hand,
Whispered, “A lovely partner on life’s ways.”
P. Seshadri.