Intoxicated by youth, the wretched one squanders hands, feet, and ears. What has happened to these fools who throw away what falls into their hands? They cast aside the wish-fulfilling gem and keep a crystal bead, deceived by their own desires. What the wise have mastered, the base misuse; the fruit matches the vessel. The pearl is born from the rain-cloud's drop in the oyster, though the same water falls everywhere. Cotton that cannot serve its purpose meets its doom, and the serpent that wears it around its neck turns it to venom. Says Tuka, whatever one does, one reaps exactly that kind of fruit.