waka of budouadana: tuther three fives

RegretThree great beakers down,Their brew spilled on thirsty earth,Their owner suffers,Feeling only sharp regret,Blind to the two that remain.MiserStopping at nothingTo get his way, the miserCuts off all his friends,Desiring only profit,Claiming five swords, needing one.BeggarsWith but five pennies,Two beggars, one lame, both starved,Wander through harsh snow,Painfully aware of thoseFeasting