Eons ago before the agricultural age
Nomadic tribes roamed upon the world stage.
One nomadic tribe came upon a golden field
Which in late summer much wheat did yield.
The tribe camped there to harvest the wheat
For some time they all had plenty to eat.
Eons later, in the agricultural age
Farming had subsided hunters’ rage.
A farmer had carefully tilled his soil
Planted some wheat with much toil;
Late summer, a thundercloud, huge
Unleashed its untimely deluge,
Ruined the poor farmer’s harvest
Though his intentions were the best.
Same summer in a distant field
Complained to the farmers’ guild
Of the dry, scorching draught,
Which burned the crops, famine brought.
“What you sow, ye shall reap
Thus the ways of nature keep!”
Yet the nomadic hunter tribe
Reaped without sowing, said the scribe
But the farmer by draught or flood
Though had shed his sweat and blood,
Sowed much wheat yet did not reap
Nature, our Laws did not keep.
- rumi
