My way leads forth by the gate on the north; <br />My heart is full of woe. <br />I hav'n't a cent, begged, stolen, or lent, <br />And friends forget me so. <br />So let it be! 'tis Heaven's decree. <br />What can I say--a poor fellow like me? <br /> <br />The King has his throne, sans sorrow or moan; <br />On me fall all his cares, <br />And when I come home, resolved not to roam, <br />Each one indignant stares. <br />So let it be! 'tis Heaven's decree. <br />What can I say--a poor fellow like me? <br /> <br />Each thing of the King, and the fate of the State, <br />On me come more and more. <br />And when, sad and worn, I come back forlorn, <br />They thrust me from the door. <br />So let it be! 'tis Heaven's decree. <br />What can I say--a poor fellow like me?<br /><br />Confucius<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-officer-sets-forth-his-hard-lot/
