In poverty’s grasp, the scholar stands tall, Death comes to all, both great and small. I dwell in the infinite, serene and free, Content with my lot, why worry should be?
In knowing all, they falter and stray, In knowing none, they find their way. To lead, seek neither wealth nor fame, The simplest path will show the same.
Content in life’s most humble art, You guide them to their truest heart. In ordinary ways, we see, The nature of our being, free.
