Tagore
How happy you are, son,
Sitting in the dust all morning, playing with a green branch.
I smiled and watched you play with that broken branch.
As for me, I am busy calculating and adding up figures hour after hour.
Maybe you look at me and think, "What a stupid game! Ruined the morning! "
Son, I have forgotten the ability to concentrate on playing with branches and mud cakes.
I am looking for expensive toys to collect gold and silver together.
And you, no matter what you find, can invent a happy game.
I spend my time and energy on things I'll never get.
I struggled to cross the sea of desire in a fragile canoe,
Forget that you are also playing games.