A Tale

A man with nothing on his back borrowed a single coin and turned it into a rough, unfinished cloak for his body. He complained: My unbridled luck, under this raw covering I am cooking in the heat. As he boiled with hardship like something half cooked, a voice called from the prison pit: 'Quiet!' Give thanks to God, you half cooked fool, that you are not bound raw hand and foot the way we are.