Song of the Wandering Minstrel



When sun and sky shine bright and fair,
When birds are singing in the air,
When spring rains washed away the dust,
Who wants to sit at home and rust?

The meadows dressed in colours gay,
The winds tell tales from far away,
Whenever springtime comes around,
Out on the roads is where I'm found!

The wanderlust comes over me,
I can't be bound, I must be free!
And off I set on the old track,
I don't delay, I don't look back.

I do not care for house and home.
My heart is free, it needs to roam,
I won't return, I cannot stay -
I'll make my fortune on the way!

A gammer or a gaffer might
Sneer at me if I'm in their sight -
I do not care about their talk.
I'm not ashamed I like to walk!

From when I step out from the hole,
I need no map, I have no goal.
I have my lute, I have my song,
The road will carry me along.

I follow it with easy feet,
I have no worries, have no need:
The trees can shade me during day,
At night, I bed in soft sweet hay.

My honey I get from the bees,
Pick apples from the apple-trees,
Go fishing in the clear blue lakes,
And every bush a larder makes.

And if I ever need to pay,
I sing a song, I dance and play.
A piece of bread, a bed tonight -
My lute and song surely provide.

Then on the next day, before noon
The minstrel has gone with her tune -
From vale to hill, from field to dell
I follow my adventure's smell.

I follow the sun in the sky,
I wave at farmers, passing by,
There's surely nothing more sublime
Than wandering, in summertime!

And when the trees are hanging low,
Laden with fruit every bough,
And when the corn stands tall and bright,
Then wandering is a delight!

When each road has new sights to learn,
And every crossing, every turn
Reveals another, stranger place,
I never want to change my ways!

When mists are dancing in the dawn,
Leave frosty fronds on every lawn,
The forests red and yellow glow,
I dance, awaiting the first snow!

But when the winter comes around,
A Hobbit's heart is better found
Inside, away from night and storm,
Beside the fire bright and warm.

And when the storms blow over stones
And frost and hunger gnaw my bones,
I sit and stare at strangers' faces,
My thoughts turn to familiar places.

And in my heart a whisper talks
Of family and friendly folks,
Of open doors, a happy face,
A blissful laugh, a tight embrace.

Then suddenly I feel desire
To set my feet towards the Shire,
And turn my back upon the way:
Let others follow it, who may!

Then finally the road will bend
Round the last corner, in the end,
And brings me to my home once more,
My folks are waiting at the door.

And in the spring the olden lure
May drag me to the road once more -
For now I sleep in my warm bed
And dream of many roads ahead.