My treasure trove

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 happily I worship no deity

But Happily I Thank the Lord

He – who is our God

And while the others live in vain

I happily, over my kingdom, reign.