The Pilgrim

He: Oh, let my laughter be not for thy ears.
Oh, let my tears be not for thy eyes.
And let my courage conquer all thy fears.
And if I cower, let me be despised.
How dare I to talk to such a lady?
I fear not be called a bitter fool.
I fear not the love without remedy.
My only fear is to be refused.
I wish my life to serve as a denial
Of loneliness and sorrow of thyself.
I will withstand even the Holy Trial,
Pursue my point even after death.
Oh, will you be the shelter for a pilgrim
Alone, away from Holy Place and home?
Who is at lost. Will you have pity for him?
Will you have place to make it Holy Throne?

She: My home is poor. What do I have to offer?
Some bitter wine and maybe little bread.
For I, alas, am only merchant's daughter.
I am no queen to give thee room and bed.
But thou may stay. I offer thee the shelter.
Some poor food, but still better than ny.
I only ask of you to teach me prayer
That Gods would listen and would not deny.
I also see, that thou are no pilgrim.
Thou dress like one, but noble are thy words.
So who thou are, and why do thou deny him,
The true thyself, begaven you by Gods?

He: Thy mind and body are the perfect case
For personality I have been looking for.
And I was hiding not from searching eyes.
My hiding was for my search all alone.
I am the king to be within this country.
And I’ve disguised myself to be precise.
So I have dressed into the dress of poverty…
But thou were able to see through disguise!
And yet before, when thou yet did not know,
Thou have been kind and nice to poor man.
I see thou near me for years to follow.
If thou agree, than it’s a happy day!