The Traveler and the Peasant

July 18, 2010
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Come in you weary rover.
Let you rest, now that your journey is over,
Come, let your tongue unravel,
Tell me of each distant travel.
I haven’t the fortune to roam,
I could not leave my home.
I am forced to mind the fields,
Joy, sadly, it never yields.
So, tell to me where you have been.
Recount all you have seen.
I beg you not tire of reciting your tale,
Tell me from where you roamed, from where you hail.
Have you sailed to the shores of Honshu,
Or tasted the best French fondue?
To Portugal or Spain?
Will you go back again?
No, please, do not go!
I wish to know if you have been to Morocco!
I would desire nothing more than to travel like you;
To see, taste, and smell all that you do.
But alas, I cannot sail the earth,
For my work restricts me to the town of my birth.
Remember one thing and old farmer told ye,
No matter your hardships, you’re among the lucky.
For you can come and go as many times as you desire,
Whilst I am stuck here mending the fire.
So remember what and old farmer told ye,
No matter your hardships you’re among the lucky.

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