I have never understood ambition
I think that a simple man
Finds his own reward
And the modest destiny
Of which I am envious
If I work well and
If I become old without
My heart of luxury
Or starving for fame
It is that of an
Old man with his
Old wife
Today good people of means
Yesterday small merchants
Secluded at the very end
Of the suburbs near the fields
Yes, this private life
Is worthy of a poet.