T here was a certain man who lived alone. He did not have a son or a brother. Yet he worked all the time. His eyes were never happy with the riches he had, and he never asked, “For whom am I working and why am I keeping myself from happiness?” This also is for nothing. It is work that brings sorrow. A True Friend
Există câte un om singur-singurel, care nu are nici fii, nici fraţi şi care se osteneşte fără încetare, dar nu se satură de avere. „Pentru cine mă ostenesc, se întreabă el, şi de ce-mi privez sufletul de la plăceri?“ Şi aceasta este o deşertăciune şi un lucru rău
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