Though my purse is empty
My heart is full
For wealth no longer
At my heart-strings pull
And though I lack a penny
Yet countless are my riches
For the shadows are my watches
And doe-skins are my breeches
King Midas with his hoard of gold
Had not half the wealth of mine
For though I live a reclusive life
And on berries and fruits do dine
I am always hale and hearty
And possess some riches divine
The deer is my venison, the clear water my wine
And on a throne I sit
While birds do render music
And though my throne is grassy
I am not one who rues it.
For the insects are my courtiers
Who fulfill all my wishes
What more could I ask for
How could I increase my riches
The sun flings some gold
In one of its moods of gaiety
And I store it in my heart
And so become rich
Though my wallet is empty
And I worship no other deity
But gratefully Thank the Lord
He – who is our God
And while the others live in vain
I happily, over my kingdom, reign.