But turning her head
She endeavours to hide it.
The peasants are rather
Confused, but they linger: 30
"Well, neighbour," they say,
"Will you tell us no more?"

"There's one thing: You're foolish
To seek among women
For happiness, brothers."

"That's all?"

"I can tell you
That twice we were swallowed
By fire, and that three times
The plague fell upon us; 40
But such things are common
To all of us peasants.
Like cattle we toiled,
My steps were as easy
As those of a horse
In the plough. But my troubles
Were not very startling:
No mountains have moved
From their places to crush me;
And God did not strike me 50
With arrows of thunder.
The storm in my soul
Has been silent, unnoticed,