Wanderer, wanderer, where do you sleep?
On the lonely road, do you rest your feet?
Do you lay your weary head in caverns deep?
Or in the tallest tower of an abandoned keep?
Wanderer, wanderer, how far have you come?
From over the hills of the setting sun?
On how many roads have your worn boots run?
On what shores of distant land will your journey’s end come?
Oh wanderer, wanderer, where are you going?
To the greenest fields where seeds they are sowing?
To the driest canyons that sing with wind’s blowing?
Or to the distant mountains, where always it’s snowing?
My wanderer, wanderer, you’ve come to journey’s end.
Rest your tired feet and let them mend.
The name of wanderer, to someone else lend.
For wander no more, you have found me, my friend.