The Vagrant’s Song

A vagrant singing, carrying his precious cartload, a sleeping girl:

With you beside me,

Living, sleeping in my cart;

Right there’s my palace, my paradise.

With you beside me,

The richest man seems poor to me.

The girl is mumbling in her sleep:

With you beside me,

Am I honored as a queen of queens.

With you beside me,

Hell doesn’t terrify me,

Nor do I wish to go to heaven

Save with you.

 

 

December 2010