Wandering aimlessly about,

I am seeking for nothing;

Carried on by a wild impulse,

I don't know where is my haven.

When only I wander about

In such an idle fashion,

I see that nothing proceeds

Without ordering and methods --

What else should I know

About this world of sojourn?

Carried on by idle influence,

I however see that people

Follow me wherever I go.

I can't help their doing so.

As they thus follow me,

I'd like to know the reason

They are wishing to do so.

What does disturb the state of stillness

And come into collision with all things?

What does prevent full accomplishment

Of the mysterious operation of Nature?

All this is owing, I conceive,

To the error of ruling the people

By meddling in their own matters.