Poverty

Running from fear hatched eyes
Forward a flock of sheep,
And behind the tongue,
Running young wolf,
He is known to them, nicknamed Fear.
Flock of sheep is Poverty,
And there is it in all the ends,
And there is it everywhere
And there is nothing when that is,
It is driven by fear.
In the life of the sheep they flee
They cling to life,
They have no time to stand
Field to meet, river,
Or a great mountain
No matter what,
Everybody is calling life.
Fear's eyes are big,
They do not descend,
From the way they do not let go,
And those who are suddenly weak,
No more pace
They are waiting for death from hunger,
And Hunger is the mouth,
Sparkles a number of fangs.
And every Beggar knows
What's better
In the whole spirit to run,
What is the abyss of hunger,
Once under a bush.
You ask
"A rich that,
Doesn't that really run? "
Well, he is a rich ram,
He developed brains,
Rich became the brain he
All the troubles were not how much,
When the brains developed, I bought horns,
And Fear is never now,
Do not jump on him.
And those mountains, and all the fields, and the whole river,
Now only him.
And fear runs through them,
Chasing Poverty
So that they could neither eat nor sleep,
To know that movement is life
And the stir of the hooves,
Their leading to death,
Very important and helpful,
For a rich sheep, work.