All Are Beggars - Poem by Sadiqullah Khan
How can we judge, how render
He puts a tongue, on trees, on clouds
A dripping rain is to the sense
A steed’s trot up the hill.
O great master of human acts
Intents, big and small
A noble King, a clown and a jester
All are beggars.
Like unto divinity
Lest a grace worthy of the moment
Be placed in their mouths;
A gesture, a costume,
An elegant pose, be sepia and paint.
Your demons nothing
But parrots in rote
Yet the nature would on the contrary
Live and repeat its acts;
When thou hast bled thine ink
On a page, void and blank.
-To William Shakespeare.
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