A Thousand %, a Thousand %

I was thinking about the poem on page 26 by an indian poet, a padachar. She was a disciple of the buddha, from the sixth century b c. E. When they plough their fields and sow seeds in the earth, young brahmins find riches. But i've done everything right and followed the rule of my teacher. I'm not lazy or proud. Why haven't i found peace?