MY PROMISED LAND

MY PROMISED LAND

I would be staring up at the star lights My heart and mind were very sure:

on the longer, colder autumn nights, architecture, painting, sculpture

my big red backpack was my pillow works of the spirit and art so pure

cardboard sheets were my bed on the ground, I wanted to go see them, draw them, sketch them.

beneath the open sky I was alone What a revelation of radiant light!

but I really never felt lonely It maybe was the best time of my life!

I had uneasy sleeps at train stations Once I hitched a ride from a young man,

with rain puddles running near-by, he also bought me a trip on a train.

but other times in the warm seasons, He handed me the ticket and said to me :

resting on a bed of leaves, grass and little branches, «Si tu fait du mal, tu vas avoir du mal dans la vie.

I wouldn't have exchanged that Si tu fait du bien tu vas avoir du bien»

for another bed in the world. Merci beaucoup, mon ami, merci bien!

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I was trying to do my work, what I felt was on my hands, I was trying to do my work, what I felt was on my hands,

thinking that was making my pass to the promised land thinking that was making my pass to the promised land

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Come the daylight I was on the streets Several years now it has been since I came back home where I was,

the way that was blown by the wind the promised land that I was searching rests inside, now I know

sweet mercy of God's graceful hand ----

I wasn’t minding much about my clothes or looks

God bless those who had me as a guest

and I truly wish them all the best

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