No, this is not my poverty that you see,
it is your own;
I only wear it for you, my friend.
But your eyes are poor
and observe no equal in me.
I see them dreaming of your salvation.
Yes, I would rather shake you by the hand
for nothing, for the sheer joy of it,
than accept your charity and vain pity.
I would lead you to my home
in which my children sleep, whose dreams
merge with your children’s dreams
in the Land where all is well
and well for all.