One old friend of mine

Held a ministry office thrice

In one small county

And did not feel elated.

So, he was thrice dismissed

From that high position

But without manifesting

Any regret or sorrow for it.

At first I was in doubt

About his sincerity,

But not too long.

Since I saw how smoothly

And quietly his breath came

Thru his nose,

I believed him completely.

'How is it you exercise your mind?'

I asked him, and he replied,

'Despite my post, in what do I

Surpass the other guys?

When the post came to me,

I thought it shouldn't be rejected;

When it was taken away from me,

I thought it could not be retained.

'I considered that getting or losing,

It did not make me what I was,

And there was no occasion

For any grief manifestation.

In what did I surpass the other guys?'

He said repeatedly to himself,

'More than that, I did not know

Whether the honour of it

Belonged to dignity or to myself.

'Judge for yourself,' he said then,

'If it belonged to dignity,

It was mostly nothing to me;

If it belonged to me, it had nothing

To do with the dignity.

'While occupied with uncertainties,

I was looking round in all directions,

What leisure had I to take knowledge

Of whether men honoured me

Or thought me a mean statesman?

Does the difference can make me

What really I am?'