To L

Oh, lass, let me tell you
                a wonderful, beautiful story,
I heard a lot, but still refuse to believe;
"There was a Shepard, called K;bil,
                in Ethiopian desert,
He worked like slave,
                and got his divine reward.
One morning he saw his sheep, dancing
                and cheering around,
Looked for reason, as well-educated he was,
Soon realized, even though it was so unclear,
All ado was due to some magical beans.
Now K;bil could work through the day,
                pray through the night,
Never get tired, duty performed well.
His name became known,
                fame spread for leagues:
From Albion, till the Aegean Pearl.
So did the beans; priests, nobles and poets
Dreamed of them, but prices still were high,
Vienna full of brave Ottoman soldiers,
For Polish pans, the fee wasn't easy to pay...
Vietnam and Brazil passed quest their later,
                in their specific, non-European way.

Change what you can, tells the story,
                before you are eight,
Hear the voice of ten angles waiting for you,
Never forget, there are always four ways to go,
Open your heart, you'll see: it's divided in two."

Pathetic, isn't it? Well, that's the point.
You try and succeed, you knock
                - someone will open the door,
Alas, mon cher, life is never so pure and naive,
When you cross five hundred miles,
                by merciful fate assigned,
All you get is five hundred more to cross...