Я был подавлен нищетой.
Ко мне на скорбный зов
пришел богач и золотой
швырнул, не тратя слов.

Я долг вернул, набравшись сил,
едва прошла беда,
и за добро благословил
спасителя тогда.

В жару, страдая и стеня,
лежал я как-то раз.
И нищий накормил меня,
и выходил, и спас.

Но чем за доброту воздам?
И тысячи гиней
не хватит. О, насколько ж нам
эмпатия важней!

I lay in sorrow, deep depressed...
My grief a proud man heard...
His looks were cold. He gave me gold.
But not a kindly word.
My sorrow passed - I paid him back.
The gold he gave me.
Then stood erect and spoke my thanks
And blesses his charity...
I lay in want, in grief and pain.
A poor man passed my way.
He bound my head. He gave me bread.
He watched me night and day.
How shall I pay him back again
For all he did to me?
Oh! Gold is great. But greater far
Is heavenly sympathy!