And all summer— all winter,
He grazed a flock of sheep,
Upon the fertile lands, they ran
Down into a valley, dark and deep;
He chased and took them back
And they again grazed,
And they did this for hours
Still, he was not praised;
He sweat a lot and never flaunted
At noon, he melts and got tan,
No one was about to praise
For he was just a pastoral man;
And one day, when the sheep ran
He never returned back
From the deep-down valley,
Neither he nor the sheep's pack;
The praised ones searched him
And found not even a grass petal,
Declaring him dead—
They finally praised him to settle;
To settle just for others' goodwill,
Mourning him in every house
They drummed him like metal.