The poor man saw his pot empty,
He became very pensive in heart and mind,
He was desperate to fill his pot with valuables,
So he began his journey ambitiously,
Gradually the man amassed a lot of wealth
And he entirely filled his pot with these.
That night he went to sleep with a happy mind,
At midnight the wretched man dreamt a horrible dream,
In which he saw his pot absolutely vacant,
Being terribly surprised, he searched everywhere anxiously,
But nowhere he found his wealth,
He began to cry bitterly in utter pain and dejection,
Then someone told him from within in a gruff voice,
"You have lost all your riches,
As you have earned those by dishonest means."
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem