Take nothing for your journey
no scrip or staff or purse
go forth with what you're wearing
for better or for worse
Don't pick and choose your shelter
stay where invited in
eat what is put before you
bless those who dwell therein
Don't fuss and fume if someone
won't welcome you with joy
don't fret when people treat you
with harshness to annoy
Your mission is for healing
to spread the news to all
though some won't pay attention
much folk will heed the call
They went and spread the good news
and those who heard were healed
nobody was excluded
from houses, tents or fields
Though seventy went forward
and more were added, too
quite soon the Master's Gospel
just grew, and grew, and grew
How lucky are the people
who heard and then were healed
who saw that living water
to Prophets long concealed
I hope my earthly journey
moves to a lighter load
may I discard the burdens
that oft my feet have slowed
My goal is in the yonder
where all the earthly things
fall off like extra chattel
and spirit soars with wings.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a superb poem; it is true to the substance of the account without becoming maudlin. But most of all, it does not have a forced rhyme feel. Read mine – Sometimes in Supplication – Adeline