An eyeless fakir was once asked:
Of what stuff are the moon and stars
The fakir smiled and shook his head:
God bless you, sir, the answer is only bread.
For, the poor know no planets, no stars
The thought of food our vision mars
When the belly is empty, nothing feels good
No taste for pleasure, only a craving for some food.
The hungry cannot commune with God nor live the pious way.
Bread alone inspires him to worship and to pray.
It’s for food that some go strangely dressed.
Some won’t bathe and let their hair grow unchecked.
Another wears a kerchief tied around his head:
All clever stratagems, all tricks are only for bread!