Cowards

I once met a drunken man there Under the shade of the calabash tree With a gourd of wine downed to the lees. He said to me when I came up: See, see my friend, I tell you From that yonder village I come I observe there are just two cowards living. The first is so peaceful he avoids A fight with the evils that go on And so evil took over the land With no resistance and exiled him from home. The second very aggressive, I tell you Fights the helpless and common man And fears the powerful Who subjects and exploits him. And I asked him which he prefers. None, none, he said and hiccupped Holding up his wine gourd. I am so disappointed with these things So I take four quarts each day To be mindless of it all. Then sir, I said, with all respect You observed two cowards But I surely have met a third coward!