O Esau, Esau, thou cunning hunter!
Have you not a special skill to hunt better?
Behold the the field, a lamb awaiting your bow!
Why then for a portage, your destiny sold?

I wept sore to hear Esau say, 'take it';
What really doth this birthright profit?
For I have nothing else to give for an exchange,
Just a bowl of your sauce is all I need to keep age.

Ah!...