Chop, chop our blows on the trees go; On riverside we pole up wood. See clear and rippling water flow. How can those who nor reap nor sow Have three hundred sheaves of corn in their place? How can those who nor hunt nor chase Have in their courtyard badgers of each race? Who need not work for food.
Chop, chop our blows for wheel-spokes go; On rivershore we pile up wood. See clear water straightforward flow. How can those who nor reap nor sow Have three millions of sheaves in their place? How can those who nor hunt nor chase Have in their courtyard games of each race? Those lords are good Who need not work to eat their food.
Chop, chop our blows for the wheels go; At river brink we pile up wood. See clear and dimpling water flow. How can those who nor reap nor sow Have three hundred ricks of corn in their place? How can those who nor hunt nor chase Have in their courtyard winged games of each race? Those lords are good Who do not have to work for food.
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