Whither dost Thou trudge,
Poverello?
Dost Thine own earth grudge
Place and pillow?

Hath Thy mouth not bread,
Poverello?
Is the wine not red,
Corn not yellow?

Wallet, staff, and shell,
Poverello;
Is the journey well,
Pilgrim fellow?

Whence Thy wounded feet,
Poverello?
Is Thine earth not sweet,
Sky not mellow?