CANDLE
S. Solomon
If thou bestow in the human heart even hundredth part of thy sacrificial attitude
O! Candle! Peace and pleasure would soon pervade through world’s every latitude
And lo! There appears the very heaven on earth
Making every soul a seat of ever lasting mirth
I wonder who taught you, O! Poor pitiable thing made of wax
To be so kind and issue forth on us showers of love worth more than lakhs?
O! pretty cylindrical thing, in white, yellow, blue and of other hue
Thy sight with glowing wick lends heavenly enchantment to our view
Pupils at their studies, businessmen on their counters go uninterrupted with their work
In the light thou offer when caught in hours of mirk
Thy presence on altar in church and atop houses on the festive occasions
Is a glorious mark and stirs in us deep holier sensations.
Can all the goodness raked together of the threesome world
Be equal to that of you who for thy part self-immolation culled?
Thou meltest as thou burnest and reducest thyself to nothingness
And find utmost satiety in thy service to mankind with all happiness
Who will not sympathise with you for the sacrifice you made?
Who will not praise you for your unstinted aid?