But man is a laborious and stupid child
who has made out of the game a sweaty (working) day.

He has turned the drum stick to a hoe,
and instead of playing on earth a song of joy
has been digging her.
If we only knew walking to the applause of the stars
and making a poetic symbol of every day!
I mean nobody knows digging in the rhythm of the sun
and nobody had yet cut off an ear with love and grace.

This baker, for example, why this baker
does not put a rose of white bread
on the lapel of that hungry beggar?

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