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Poem
When they plow their fields and sow seeds in the earth, when they care for their wives and children, young brahmans find riches. But I've done everything right and followed the rules of my teacher. I'm not lazy or proud. Why haven't I found peace? Bathing my feet I watched the bathwater spill down the slope. I concentrated my mind the way you train a good horse. Then I took a lamp and went into my cell, checked the bed, and sat down on it. I took a needle and pushed the wick down. When the lamp went out my mind was freed.