Dominique

Dominique, nique, nique
Simply went away
A poor singing traveler
On all roads, in all places
He speaks only of the Good Lord
He speaks only of the Good Lord

In the time when John Lackland was the king of England
Dominique our father fought against the Albigensians

Some days a heretic led him through thorns
But our Father Dominique converted him with his joy

Neither camel nor carriage, he traveled Europe on foot
From Scandinavia to Provence, in holy poverty

He inflamed with zeal boys and girls from every school
And to spread the word, he founded the Preaching Brothers

At Dominique and his brothers, bread began to run out
And two angels appeared, carrying large golden loaves

Dominique dreamt of the preachers of the whole world
Gathered in great numbers under the cloak of the Virgin

Dominique, my good Father, keep us simple and joyful
To announce to our brothers, life and truth

Dominique, nique, nique
Simply went away
A poor singing traveler
On all roads, in all places
He speaks only of the Good Lord
He speaks only of the Good Lord