I have walked down many roads. I have cut many new paths. I have sailed in a hundred seas And docked in a hundred shores.
In all the places, I have seen Caravans of sad people, Magnificent, yet beaten down Drunk with black shade.
And the self-righteous in their fancy clothes, that watch, closed mouth but thinking that they are better because they don’t drink wine in the taverns.
Bad people who walk And in their walking Stink up the land.
Still, everywhere, I can see People who dance and play, When they can, And toil their little plot of earth.
When arriving at a place They never ask where they are Walking, or riding on the back Of an old mule.
They have no reason to hurry, Not even on the holy days. When there is wine, they drink it. And, when no wine, they drink cold water. They are good people who live, Work, they pass and dream. And today, so many Are resting under the earth.
