I walk down the street and there lies a watch,
I pick up this Louis Vitton strap on which it hangs,
Clear from its band, brown and lettered,
It is one of those the rich really own,
Now it is mine to take and keep.
I walk to the place where I shop,
This black bag is now lying there,
Now who left such a treasure as this?
I think the fool did not even know,
The price of life when he loses a jewel,
For me to find and take home once again.
When all these finds are counted by me,
I see a coat with fur hanging there,
Left in the street for me to pick,
Then I know I must give back,
For a lot was given to me who takes,
Just like a lot will be required one day.
Next time you see me the beggar,
Remember I gave even with the hand I took,
For us to take, is also to give,
For who would be blessed if they only took,
When there are no beggars in the street?
Don't shy away from giving alms,
To those whose hands are forever stretched,
For they do have the power to do so,
Which one day will be gone forever,
Just like it will to you and me.
This thing called life that walks away,
And leaves us looking in the distance,
Where it disappears never to return.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful poem. There is pleasure in giving and sharing things with the needy. One should not miss any opportunity of giving. Very nice with a nice message.