Classic Poem

I have a suit, blessings upon it.
I strut around in it, a superman.

As it swathes my body, I feel myself
Arrayed in splendor and loftiness.

People who see me think I'm grand!
My standing is that of a mayor or prince.

People haunt my tracks, like poor people
Who haunt the sun in winter time.

O beautiful suit, O fountainhead
Of all my vanity, my adorment!

I hope that nothing will change your color,
That the wild wearing winds will pass you over,

That the threadbareness will never spot you,
That the tailor's needle will pass you by.

Before your time my company was a long-worn suit,
A chameleon suit of changing colors:

Time had tamed its color, meeting people
Had turned it the shade of a liar's face.

When I wore it, people I visited
Shunned me like someone quarantined for the plague.

O new suit, you have outfitted me among my people
With a status higher than I strove for!

New clothes are pleasing to my people.
A gracious appearance is all they love.

A person to them is as valuable as the splendid
Rig he wears, as a brand new pair of shoes.