The Camel

I’d quit the seminary.
My face looked like a gun.
"What troubles you, my son?
What’s all this gloom?"
A priest had come to my room.
"Persevere. Persevere."
"Dear Father," I said, "Enough good cheer.
Look at my country. Why is it
So poor? No place is worse.
What sins did we commit?
"Easy, my son," he answered.
"Poverty is not a curse.
Think of Jesus’ words:
A camel will pass through a needle’s eye
Before a rich man will enter heaven."
"Dear Father," I said again,
Don’t you see?
The Lord should let us be rich and die.
We would set a good example
For the camel, our national symbol."