The plums tasted
sweet to the unlettered desert-tribe girl-
but what manners! To chew into each! She was ungainly,
low-caste, ill mannered and dirty,
but the god took the
fruit she'd been sucking.
Why? She'd knew how to love.
She might not distinquish
splendor from filth
but she'd tasted the nectar of passion.
Might not know any Veda,
but a chariot swept her away-
now she frolics in heaven, esctatically bound
to her god.
The Lord of Fallen Fools, says Mira,
will save anyone
who can practice rapture like that-
I myself in a previous birth
was a cowherding girl
at Gokul.
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This is great in that it demonstrates overlooking the condition of the person and seeing the passion for an object. In eastern thought, the concept of reincarnation underscores the notion that one is not to belittle small acts. In Christian thought, the story of the widow's mite could apply here. The widow had very little but gave more than the rich merchants; her heart had the "right stuff"--giving for a true cause, not to be seen and praised. The cowherding girl in this poem relished the plum, and for that she was admired. Passion. Love it.
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