【正文】
oday, is all you know, To fret is not your style, But though you soar upon the heights, your life is so fragile. You take no worries for the morrow, You do not sow or reap, You build no barns to store your seed, for there is none to keep. Your plumes just bloom without a fuss, You only need to preen, With no thought to fret for more, for God knows all you need.