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The Person Has The Pitiful Thought

People have pitiful thoughts
Tomorrow grain admits the warehouse today
The lock must be solid
The night must be black
The thief cannot find the path to enter the gate
Yet the thought can
Weighed up myself and the grain everyday
To see it is lighter or heavier
It is the same grain
Yet the bone is getting older

Human thoughts have not weight
Only the grain in the warehouse has
It is heavier than the bone
One person cannot carry it
You must drive a large cart
To pull it to your village
A gale suddenly blows your village
You cannot flee
If you want to die
You must die in front of that pile of grain
Likes a worm's corpse.

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