Che Sara Sara
Preach wisdom unto him who understands!
—When there's such lovely longing in thine eyes,
And such a pulse in thy small clinging hands,
—What is the good of being great or wise?
What is the good of beating up the dust
—On the world's highway, vexed with droughty heat,
Oh, I grow fatalist—what must be must,
—Seeing that thou, beloved, art so sweet!
—When there's such lovely longing in thine eyes,
And such a pulse in thy small clinging hands,
—What is the good of being great or wise?
What is the good of beating up the dust
—On the world's highway, vexed with droughty heat,
Oh, I grow fatalist—what must be must,
—Seeing that thou, beloved, art so sweet!
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