The Netchiman’s Lament

In youth I once dreamed of wealth in extremes Of fine robes and thirty-year wines I hoped I’d hoard heaps of gold in my keeps But a netchiman’s fate is mine I bought up a herd on hearing the word That netches fetched profits divine Now I live stuck in the rain and the muck And a netchiman’s fate is mine I’m deep in arrears, and will be for years From creatures that stink more than swine But I found a good wife, the love of my life So a netchiman’s fate is just fine