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Both are fallen stock traders, why boast when we meet?

Plant one corn seed in spring, harvest ten thousand grains in autumn.
No idle fields in all the world, farmers still starving.
Weeding at noon, sweat drops on the ground.
Who knows the toil of every grain in the dish?
Buying a stock low, sell it at the end of the year.
No spare money in the account, stock career to escape poverty.
Digging bottom prices fall, legs trembling and heart shaking.
Who knows the profits in the account, every penny is hard-earned?
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