The world is a marketplace

The world

is a marketplace.

All the men and women

are mere traders.

Every trader has a bird

without wings.

Because wings are

the currency,

and cheap things are

bought with them.

This

is a strange marketplace.

Thirsty trades away his river.

Hungry trades away his fields.

Patient trades away his medicine.

And for what?

For a drop of water.

For a grain of wheat.

For a remedy.

Strange,

indeed.