Just a little sugar and just a little salt. Look, there is no maize-flour or just a handful of oats. With the summer heat warm, smothering, muggy, the winters are so shivering cold.  

With the dull glow of silver and gold, oh how precious, durable the simplicity now appears. With no electricity or gas, it is now paper and wood. For this the bush and forest now pay unjustly.

Oh, mistake upon mistake, for man’s survival he fortified himself so unnecessarily in the riches of the planet. Man’s infrastructure was built on loose sand and their hope was built on useless money.

With punch after punch, people and nations begin to jeer at each other. And in the eagle-claw hangs the dead chick of the once extravagant peacock. Look, the begging-hand is held out to each other for help, in vain.

So the flame of hope now burns weakly and in the twilight the world-grave is being dug. Oh, the sky is gray and drab because man’s love for God was so weak. So, let the children weep and the mothers mourn.

Listen to their call: Just give us a little sugar and a little salt. Look, there is no maize-flour or a handful of oats. And with the summer heat so suffocating hot, the winters come shivering, mortally cold.