No house, no homeland

My jacket is still whole,

and my glass yet full of gin!

World, go on your way;

I will not ask where.

No house, no homeland,

No wife and no child,

So I whirl, like a piece of straw,

in rain and wind!

Ebb and flow,

soon there and soon here;

World, if you do not ask after me,

why should I ask after you?