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
Un om este singur singurel, n'are nici fiu, nici frate, şi totuş munca lui n'are sfîrşit, ochii nu i se satură niciodată de bogăţii, şi nu se gîndeşte:,, Pentru cine muncesc eu, şi-mi lipsesc sufletul de plăceri?`` Şi aceasta este o deşertăciune şi un lucru rău.
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