Three friends were walking side by side,
when they sat down to rest.
Boys, said one, we must decide,
whose life has been the best.
It can't be mine, the first one said.
My life's been one of aches.
I am a lowly farmer,
I use shovels, hoes and rakes.
My bones are knarled, my legs are bowed,
my poor back, it is bent.
My shoulders hurt, my skin is burnt,
my hands are cracked and rent.
My life's been hard and full of pain.
I should curse god and die.
I only will feel better,
when in my grave I lie.
Your life's been painless next to mine,
the second man, he said.
I'm a teacher and I've thought til I'm nearly dead.
I can't count on my senses, my mind is failing me.
I'm hearing things that are not there,
I question what I see.
The other day I saw a pig, flying through the sky.
I too, should simply curse the lord,
and lay me down and die.
For I cannot sleep, I lay awake each and every night.
My head it aches with awful pain, only death will make it right.
The last at first was quiet.
He slowly shook his head.
I'm sorry for you both my friends.
I too wish I were dead.
For years I was a preacher.
For years, I praised the lord.
But lately, I have lost my faith.
With god I am quite bored.
I pray and do not hear a single word from god above.
My spirit is now one of hate, instead of one of love.
I curse the lord for all the pain, that in my soul I feel.
It is a pain so deep it seems, that only death will heal.
Just then there was a mighty blast of brimstone and of fire.
And then the Devil did appear,
up came the demon's sire.
I'm sorry that your pain, he said, is such that you seek death,
But I'm glad to hear you curse god's name, with your dying breath.
It means my friends, that you will come,
back down to hell with me.
Then your bodies, minds and souls, at last from pain will be.
But then the three friends thought it through,
and all their pain it fled.
Hallelujah! Praise the lord! We don't wish we were dead!
We love our god and thank him, for the love that he does show!
Our pain, it is like nothing!
This, each of us does know!
And then the three friends, they jumped up
and hurried down the road.
Each of them well satisfied to carry his own load!
So the Devil, he, went back to hell,
and that is where he'll wait.
Ready to take all the souls of those whose pain's too great!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.