Vavilon — Najbogatiot Covek Vo

Bansir frowned. "I earn so little. One-tenth is a few coppers."

Arkad smiled gently. "You ask why luck has kissed my brow, Bansir? But luck waits for no one. It is habit that builds wealth."

Then Arkad shared the second law. "A man’s wealth is not in the coins he hoards, but in the gold that works for him . I took my saved coppers and lent them to the armor-maker to buy more tin. He paid me back with interest. I lent to the farmer for a new plow. His extra harvest paid me back. Make your gold your slave, so you may be free." najbogatiot covek vo vavilon

In the ancient, sun-baked city of Babylon, a man named Arkad was known by a single, shimmering title: —the richest man in all of Babylon. His gold funded the great irrigation canals; his silver adorned the Hanging Gardens.

Arkad nodded. "Anyone can do this. Save a tenth. Let it grow. Avoid loss. Do this for ten years, and you will not be poor. Do it for thirty, and you will dine with kings." Bansir frowned

One evening, a former childhood friend, Bansir the chariot builder, came to Arkad’s lavish home. Bansir’s clothes were threadbare, his hands calloused. "Arkad," Bansir said, "you and I played together as boys. We both worked hard. Yet you bathe in gold, while I struggle to buy a single donkey. Why?"

"Yes," Arkad replied. "But a few coppers today become a handful of silver in a year. A handful of silver becomes a pouch of gold in ten years. This is the first law: pay yourself first ." "You ask why luck has kissed my brow, Bansir

Yet, long ago, Arkad was a poor scribe who carved clay tablets for other men’s wages.