The Wolf

How many times have I set forth

with a bent back

and a waterskin slung on my shoulder?

How many valleys have I crossed—

lands barren as an ass’s belly

where the wolf howls

in its dire need?

Once when I heard that howl

I offered a reply:

“We’re hard up, you and I,

brothers in destitution.

Whatever we lay hold of

we soon let slip away:

times are always lean

for those who sow like us.”