I have traveled many paths
I have discovered many trails
I have navigated one hundred seas
And landed on one hundred shores
In all parts I have visited caravans of sorrow
Scornful and sad
Intoxicated from dark drink
And pedantic priests watch impassively
and think that they understand
Because they do not drink tavern wine
Dirty people that walk foul the land
seen everywhere -
People who dance or play
When they can -
And work their
Four handspans of land
Never if they arrive at a place
Are asked where they are from
When they travel
Riding the backs
Of old mules
And they don't know the rush
Neither even on
Festival days -
Where there is wine,
They drink wine
Where there is no wine
Fresh water