"L'homme qui passe," in France they call
The man who thrives
By grinding knives--
Who never stays at home at all,
But always must be moving on.
He's glad to find
Some knives to grind,
But when they're finished he'll be gone.
With dog behind to turn the wheel,
He grinds the knife
For farmer's wife,
And pauses now the edge to feel:
The dog behind him hears the sound
Of cheerful chat
On this and that,
And fears no knife is being ground.
The man makes jokes with careless smile,
He doesn't mind
The dog behind,
But goes on talking all the while.