A man who lacks a cash account—
Are names and nothing more."
When I heard this, I reflected: "Alas! It is true, though it is my enemy who says it. For today I have not the power to jump a mere finger's breadth. A curse upon a fellow's life without money! As the saying goes:
After money has departed,
If the wit is frail,
Then, like rills in summer weather,
Undertakings fail.
Forest sesame, crow-barley,
Men who have no cash,
Owning names but lacking substance,
Are accounted trash.
Beggars have, no doubt, their virtues,
Yet they do not flash:
As the world has need of sunlight,
Virtues ask for cash.
Beggars-born less keenly suffer
Than the men who crash
From a life of comfort to a
Deficit of cash.
Like the flabby breasts of widows,
Hopes and wishes rash
Helpless fall upon the bosom,
When there is no cash.
The sun that stuns the eyes that shun,
In vain he strains to see:
The light so bright is wrapped in night
By veils of poverty."
