The plums tasted <br />sweet to the unlettered desert-tribe girl- <br />but what manners! To chew into each! She was ungainly, <br />low-caste, ill mannered and dirty, <br />but the god took the <br />fruit she'd been sucking. <br />Why? She'd knew how to love. <br />She might not distinquish <br />splendor from filth <br />but she'd tasted the nectar of passion. <br />Might not know any Veda, <br />but a chariot swept her away- <br />now she frolics in heaven, esctatically bound <br />to her god. <br />The Lord of Fallen Fools, says Mira, <br />will save anyone <br />who can practice rapture like that- <br />I myself in a previous birth <br />was a cowherding girl <br />at Gokul.<br /><br />Mirabai<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-plums-tasted/
