The poet's head

Once a king was very displeased with a particular poet because the poet was no longer writing flattering poems about him.

The king said to his guard, “I want his head.”

So the guard went to the poet’s house and said, “The king wants your head. I have come here to cut off your head and take it back to the king.”

“What!” said the poet.

“I have come to kill you and place your head at the feet of the king,” the guard said.

The poet started trembling. He said, “The king wants my head? To me, my most precious possession is my head. How can I give such a precious thing to you to give to the king? I must give it to him personally. Yes, I think that it would be better if I brought my head personally.”

So he went to the king and said, “Now I have come with my head. Here is my head. You can do anything you want with it.”

The king was pleased at how smart the poet was and he forgave him. “Now write better poems about me than you have written in the past few months!” he said.

From:Sri Chinmoy,Is your mind ready to cry? Is your heart ready to smile? part 4, Agni Press, 1981
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