Bansir, the car manufacturer in the city of Babylon, felt very discouraged. Sitting on the wall surrounding his property, he looked sadly at his modest house and workshop, where there was an unfinished car. His wife often went to the door. He gave a furtive glance in his direction, reminding him that they had almost no food left and that he would have to be finishing the car, that is, nailing, carving, polishing and painting, spreading the leather on the wheels; preparing it in this way to be delivered and to be paid by the rich customer. However, his large, muscular body remained motionless, leaning against the wall. His slow mind circled an issue to which he found no solution. The warm tropical sun, so typical of the Euphrates Valley, fell upon him mercilessly. Drops of sweat permeated his forehead and slid down to his hairy chest. His house was dominated, in the back, by the walls surrounding the terraces of the royal palace. Nearby, the painted tower of the Temple of Bel was clipping against the blue of the sky. In the shadow of such a majesty his modest house was drawn, and many others too, much less clean and cared for than his. This was Babylon: a mixture of sumptuousness and simplicity, blinding wealth and terrible poverty without any order inside the city walls. If he had bothered to turn around, Bansir would have seen how the noisy cars of the rich pushed and staggered both the merchants who wore sandals and barefoot beggars. Even the rich were forced to put their feet in the drains to make way for the long lines of slaves and water bearers in the service of the king. Each slave wore a heavy goatskin filled with water that poured into the hanging gardens. Bansir was too absorbed in his own problem to hear or pay attention to the confusing hustle and bustle of the rich city. It was the familiar sound of a lyre that brought him out of his reverie. He turned around and saw the expressive and smiling face of his best friend, Kobi the musician. "May the gods bless you with great generosity, my good friend," Kobi said by way of greeting. But I think they are so generous that you no longer have any need to work. I'm glad you have that luck. Moreover, I would like to share it with you. I beg you to do me the favor of taking shekeles out of your bag, which must be very full, since you are not working in your workshop, and lend them to me until after the feast of the nobles tonight. You will not lose them, they will be returned to you. "If I had two shekeles," Bansir replied sadly, "I couldn't lend them to anyone, or you, my best friend, because they would be all my fortune." Nobody lends all his fortune to his best friend. - That? - exclaimed Kobi surprised - Do not have a shekel in your bag and remain sitting on the wall like a statue? Why don't you finish that car? How do you satisfy your hunger? I don't recognize you, my friend. Where is your overflowing energy? Does anything afflict you? Did the gods cause you any problems? "It must be an ordeal sent by the gods," said Bansir. It began with a dream, a dream that made no sense, in which I believed he was a lucky man. From my waist hung a bag full of heavy coins. I had shekeles that threw carelessly at the beggars, gold coins with which I bought supplies for my wife and everything she wanted for me; I even had gold coins that allowed me to look confidently at the future and spend freely. A wonderful feeling of satisfaction invaded me. If you had seen me you would not have known the hardworking worker in me, nor in my wife the wrinkled woman, you would have found in her place a woman with the plethoric face of happiness that she smiled as at the beginning of our marriage. "A beautiful dream indeed," said Kobi, "but why would such pleasant feelings turn you into a statue placed on the wall?" - Why? Because the moment I woke up and remembered to what extent my bag was empty, a feeling of rebellion invaded me. -Let's talk about it. As the sailors say, we both paddle in the same boat. As young people we went to visit the priests to learn their wisdom. When we became men, we shared the same pleasures. In adulthood, we have always been good friends. We were satisfied with our luck. We were happy to work long hours and freely spend our salary. We earned a lot of money over the past years, but the enjoyments of wealth have only been able to experience them in dreams. Are we stupid sheep? We live in the richest city in the world. Travelers say that no other city matches it. This wealth extends before us, but we have nothing of it. Having spent half of your life working hard, you, my Best friend, you have the empty bag and you ask me: Can you lend me a sum as insignificant as two shekeles until after the feast of the nobles tonight? And what do I answer? I say that here you have my bag, and that I share your content with you? No, I admit that my bag is as empty as yours. What is not working? Why can't we get more silver and more gold, more than necessary to be able to eat and dress? Consider our children. Are they not following the same path as their parents? Will they also with their families, and their children with theirs, have to live among the golden hoarders and will they have to be content to drink the usual goat's milk and feed on clear broth? "For all these years that we've been friends, you've never talked like that," Kobi replied intrigued. -During all these years, I had never thought so. From dawn until the darkness made me stop I have worked making the most beautiful cars that a man can make, without almost daring to wait until one day the gods would recognize my good works and give me great prosperity, which they have never done . I finally realize that they never will. That's why I'm sad. I want to be rich. I want to own land and cattle, wear beautiful clothes and fill my bag of money. I am willing to work for it with all my strength, with all the skill of my hands, with all the skill of my head, but I want my efforts to be rewarded. What happens to us? I ask you again. Why don't we have a fair share of all the good things, so abundant, that those who possess the gold can get? - Oh, if I knew the answer! answered Kobi. I am not more satisfied than you. All the money I earn. With my lyre it spends quickly. I often have to plan and calculate so that my family does not go hungry. I also have in my internal jurisdiction the desire to have a lyre large enough for. make the great music that comes to mind resonate. With such an instrument he could produce music so soft that even the king himself would never have heard anything like it. -You should have such a lyre. No one in the city of Babylon could make it sound better than you, make it sing so melodiously that, not only the king, but the gods themselves would be amazed. But how could you get it if you and I are as poor as the king's slaves? Listen to the bell! They are coming! He pointed out a long column of half-naked men, the Water bearers coming from the river, sweating and suffering on a narrow street. They walked in a column of five hunched under the heavy goatskin filled with water. -The man who guides them is beautiful -Kobi told the man who rang the bell and walked in front of everyone, - no load. In your country it is easy to find beautiful men. "There are several beautiful faces in line," said Bansir, "as much as ours." Tall and blond men from the north, black and smiling men from the south and small and dark from neighboring countries. Everyone walks together from the river to the gardens and from the gardens to the river, every day of each year. They cannot expect any happiness. They sleep on straw beds and eat porridge. I feel sorry for those poor animals, Kobi! -I'm sorry too. But they remind me that we are not much better than them, even if we call ourselves free. `` It's true, Kobi, but I don't like to think about that. We do not want to continue living as slaves year after year. Work, work, work ... And get nothing! - Shouldn't we try to find out how the others got their gold and do like them? Kobi asked. "Perhaps there is a secret that we can learn simply if we find those who know him," Bansir replied thoughtfully. "Today," added Kobi, "I have met our old friend Arkad, who was riding in his golden car." I will tell you that he has not looked at me; one thing that some of his class believe they have the right to do. Instead he made a sign with his hand so that the spectators could see him greet and grant the favor of a kind smile to Kobi the musician. "Yes, they say he is the richest man in all of Babylon," said Bansir. "So rich, they say, that the king resorts to his gold for treasure affairs," Kobi replied. "So rich," said Bansir, "that if he found me at night, he would be tempted to empty his bag." - That's absurd! replied Kobi. A man's fortune is not in the bag he carries. A well-packed bag empties quickly if there is no gold source to feed it. Arkad has an income that keeps his bag full, spend how you spend your money. - Income, that's the important thing! said Bansir. I want an income that continues to feed my bag, whether I sit on the wall of my house or travel to distant countries. Arkad must know how a man can secure an income. Do you think he will be able to explain it to someone with a mind as clumsy as mine? "I think he taught his son to his son Nomasir," Kobi replied. He went to Nineveh and, they say at the inn, he became, without help from his father, in one of the richest men in the city. "Kobi, what you just said has given birth to a luminous idea." A new glow appeared in Bansir's eyes. Nothing is hard to ask a good friend for wise advice, and Arkad has always been a friend. It doesn't matter if our bags are as empty as the hawk's nest from the previous year. Let's stop for that. Do not worry about not owning gold in the midst of abundance. We want to be rich. Come! Let's go see Arkad and ask him how we could make a profit for ourselves
-You speak possessed by an authentic inspiration, Bansir. You bring to my mind a new vision of things. You make me aware of the reason we have never had our share of wealth. We have never actively sought it. You have worked patiently to build the strongest cars in Babylon. You have concentrated all your efforts on it and you have succeeded. I have endeavored to become a skilled musician, and I have succeeded. In what we have set out to succeed, we have succeeded. The gods were happy to let us continue like this. Now, we finally see a light as bright as dawn. He commands us to learn more to make ourselves more prosperous. We will find, with a new understanding, honorable ways to fulfill our desires. "Let's go see Arkad today," said Bansir. Let us ask our childhood friends who have not succeeded in joining us and sharing that wisdom with us. -You really are a considerate friend, Bansir. That's why you have so many friendships. We will make wild cards. Let's go look for them today and take them with us.
