A pilgrim takes his staff
	And sets out, place by place,
	To reach the heavenly land,
	The Lord promised his heirs.

	Happily he anticipates the goal,
	Shoulders pressed by the cross,
	Faith demands him to carry
	And His Word points the way.

	The heavy load forces a rest,
	Exhausted he lays it on bocks,
	Saws off at the bottom center
	And proceeds with firm steps.

	The pilgrimage is light and good,
	He stands at the river of atonement
	And a brother throws his long cross
	As a dry bridge across the waters.

	His however falls a length too short
	And he calls the brother for help,
	Him: 'What part did you saw off?'
	He: 'The one of social responsibility.'

	 Anonym (ed) 2012 - 2010