Here our poverty is an ornament upon us,
our gourd, our blanket and our begging
sound. It is a priceless treasure we pass in,
a mind perpetually at peace. Our mansion is a
hovel full of holes, our tenantry are mice, but our
wealth is the name of God. Tuka says, In my
last hour I would fain be alone; this is why I
dwell apart from the world.
our gourd, our blanket and our begging
sound. It is a priceless treasure we pass in,
a mind perpetually at peace. Our mansion is a
hovel full of holes, our tenantry are mice, but our
wealth is the name of God. Tuka says, In my
last hour I would fain be alone; this is why I
dwell apart from the world.