Tracks in the Mud
Whose cart got into difficulty here?
The mud opened its mouth two feet wide
And stuck tightly to the iron wheels.
There are traces of a man
Who slipped many times.
Then, using his legs as a lever,
Mustering up his whole strength,
He pulled the cart up in one breath.
Had he been made of iron,
He would have given off sparks.
Ah, indeed, a man who strives hard
Stakes his one life sometimes
Even for a trifle.
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