A Tale

A pilgrim once gave me an ivory comb, may God's mercy rest on the ways of pilgrims. Then I heard that this same man had once called me a dog, that his heart had somehow soured against me. So I threw the comb away: I don't need this bone. From now on, don't call me your dog. Don't think that just because I have my own sour vinegar to eat, I'd suffer a master's cruelty to get his sweets. Be content with little, my soul, and you'll see the king and the beggar as one and the same. Why go begging to the emperor's door? Set greed aside, and you are an emperor yourself. But if you serve only your own belly, turn it into a drum and bow toward every stranger's house for food.