I go to my new house,
switch the table-lamp on,
the table is all effulgence.
streams of light flow on its sides.
I take the living lamp to other rooms
to see if the bright bulb kindles its kind,
bulb after bulb I try at every site,
no bulb wakes up from its sleep.
Tired, I turn to my old house
and light my earthen lamp,
with it I pass to my neighbors
and light many a meanest lamp.
Each house glows with a happy fire.
Each head turns into a walking spire.
"I" goes out the door.
"We" comes in the front door.
- I. K. Sharma, Jaipur, India