The workman

We have a bed, we have a child,

My wife!

We have also work - work for two,

and have the sun and rain and wind;

and we lack just one small thing

to be as free as the birds are:

only time.

When on Sundays we go through the fields,

My child,

And above the corn, far and wide,

the blue swallows can be seen flitting,

Oh, then, we lack no bits of clothing

to be as fine as the birds are:

only time.

Only time! We sense a stormwind,

we people.

Just one small eternity;

We lack nothing, my wife, my child,

but all that thrives in us,

to be as bold as the birds are:

only time.