I Am The Richest Poem by Dhal Bahadur Jirel

I have a couple of feet
My hut and my rugs
I eat cheap bread and laugh at Fate
I toil through the livelong day
I need no salt
For my sweat drips into my
mouth,
I need no garlic and onion
For odor from my children's' rugs replace
them
And need no spray for my sweat and blood
smell sweet
I know, my sweat and blood that I shed
Until the sun remain
In the sky
Hardly covers stomach of my family
I along with my family
Remain nude
All under sweltering heat
And chilling cold
No slippers no shoes
No hat and no scarf
For our skin is made to adopt nature
I clearly know what the scarcity
My poverty seems dark, my heart seems sad,
Yet though I kindle kerosine lamp low and dim,
Though I am slave for my livelihood
I do worry not for tomorrow
Nor I get afraid of ailment
Nor stoop cowardly in front of death
For I am made to live today
The life of legendary
Oh...so-called rich men...!
Poor are you
And the truth is,
I am the richest of the rich.