A poorly clothed man who
looks as if his face had
been badly burned, sits
hunched up, and on seeing
you he holds up his begging
tin and murmurs:

"Have pity on a God, whose
creators have damned him and
even tried to kill him
through the hands of
thieves."
     
He sniggers and laughs to
himself about his joke that
you cannot understand, as
you have no bard nearby who
would be able to tell you
the meaning of this old
tale.
      
