A straw hat and a wanderer’s staff —
A schema-monk-thinker, a bum and a beggar.
They drive the romantic-dreamer far off,
He is trash to society, for he does not live as they do.

He has rolled to the extreme,
Become a “parasite.”
But in a healthy reality
It is impossible without work.

Toward knowledge of the truth
You hurry at once —
You love to think,
But sew the tents.