What would a business be, if nothing was there?
Every brick has its purpose, and no builder is too small.
What would it be like, with the windows too dirty to see through?
The window washer fired, the cleansing water evaporated.
The bucket empty and useless.
Is it the best idea to ignore the small jobs and
only focus on the “big” jobs? Everyone has their responsibilities,
so don’t think you’re working for nothing.
There is a reward, not in cash, but in spirit.
It does the soul good to know you are a part of something.
That your work has a purpose.
Even if it is destroyed, it still dwells, in memory
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem