I performed the duties that fell to my lot; it seems my pains were wasted. I have no pleasure in studying old texts; like one in jest I read what is written and brush it off me. My faith has ruined my home; yet I endured everything up to now. At last, says Tuka, I have no foundation left to stand on; what mischievous fancy of thine hast thou indulged?
Sometimes we have to carry water on our
heads, sometimes we may sleep on soft beds;
everything happens in its own season. Sometimes
we have many dishes to eat, sometimes dry bread;
sometimes we ride in carriages, sometimes we go
walking, barefooted; sometimes we have fine clothes
to wear, sometimes rags; sometimes we have every
sort of wealth, sometimes we have to endure
poverty; sometimes we find ourselves with the
good, sometimes with the wicked. Know this, says
Tuka, that good and evil divide our days between
them.
Sometimes we have to carry water on our
heads, sometimes we may sleep on soft beds;
everything happens in its own season. Sometimes
we have many dishes to eat, sometimes dry bread;
sometimes we ride in carriages, sometimes we go
walking, barefooted; sometimes we have fine clothes
to wear, sometimes rags; sometimes we have every
sort of wealth, sometimes we have to endure
poverty; sometimes we find ourselves with the
good, sometimes with the wicked. Know this, says
Tuka, that good and evil divide our days between
them.