Tradition and verse — not medical advice
Playthings
Shown in author's own English -- not a translation we made.
Child, how happy you are sitting in the dust, playing with a broken twig all the morning.
I smile at your play with that little bit of a broken twig.
I am busy with my accounts, adding up figures by the hour.
Perhaps you glance at me and think, "What a stupid game to spoil your morning with!"
Child, I have forgotten the art of being absorbed in sticks and mud-pies.
I seek out costly playthings, and gather lumps of gold and silver.
With whatever you find you create your glad games, I spend both my time and my strength over things I never can obtain.
In my frail canoe I struggle to cross the sea of desire, and forget that I too am playing a game.
In plain words (ours, not the poet's): a parent watching their child play happily with a stick realizes that grown-up busyness with money and things is really its own kind of game too.
Why public domain: Tagore wrote The Crescent Moon in English himself, first published London 1913. US: pre-1929 publication, public domain in the US. Tagore died 1941; public domain in India (life + 60 years) since 2002.