Because of winter the slothful plougheth not, He asketh in harvest, and there is nothing.
Poor is he who is working--a slothful hand, And the hand of the diligent maketh rich.
The soul of the slothful is desiring, and hath not. And the soul of the diligent is made fat.
Sloth causeth deep sleep to fall, And an indolent soul doth hunger.
The slothful hath hidden his hand in a dish, Even unto his mouth he bringeth it not back.
Counsel in the heart of a man is deep water, And a man of understanding draweth it up.
The desire of the slothful slayeth him, For his hands have refused to work.
And thy poverty hath come as a traveller, And thy want as an armed man!
Go unto the ant, O slothful one, See her ways and be wise;
Whoso is observing the wind soweth not, And whoso is looking on the thick clouds reapeth not.