Raidas, the Sweeper

Raidas, the sweeper, sat still, lost in the solitude of his soul, and some songs
  born of his silent vision found their way to the Rani’s heart, the Rani Jhali
  of Chitore.
Tears flowed from her eyes, her thoughts wandered away from her daily
  dudes, till she met Raidas who guided her to God’s presence.
The old Brahmin priest of the King’s house rebuked her for her desecration
  of sacred law by offering homage as a disciple to an outcaste.
‘Brahmin,’ the Rani answered, ‘while you were busy tying your purse—
  strings of custom ever tighter, love’s gold slipped unnoticed to the earth,
  and my Master in his divine humility has picked it up from the dust.
‘Revel in your pride of the unmeaning knots without number, harden your
  miserly heart, but I, a beggar woman, am glad to receive love’s wealth, the
  gift of the lowly dust, from my Master, the sweeper.’